


Room Number Seven

by RubiesareforHunting



Series: Room Number Seven [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Blackmail, Bondage, Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Dom/sub, Erotica, M/M, Mystery, Top Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 201,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubiesareforHunting/pseuds/RubiesareforHunting
Summary: Arthur Pendragon didn't need to pay for sex to get it. That was just a fact. And yet he finds himself returning to the sex club Excalibur, drawn to the enigma of Emrys, the prostitute that he met in room number seven. When Emrys and Arthur find themselves in a lust fueled relationship that begins to spill over into their personal lives, they both must come to terms with the past and how it's shadows affect their future.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Room Number Seven [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905064
Comments: 658
Kudos: 627





	1. On Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter work with 20 chapters fully drafted. So...there will be plot eventually. Probably.

Arthur Pendragon didn't need to pay for sex to get it. That was just a fact.

And yet.

And yet here he was, with a disgusting amount of cash in his billfold. He twirled a matte black key card, idly watching it spin between the marble bartop and his index finger as he sipped his scotch. It flashed with the light off his silver ring after every sharp edged rotation, and it made it easier for him to consider the evening for what it was.

He wasn't nervous. There was nothing particularly intriguing to him about the idea of anonymous sex. The appeal was in the gap between him and whoever was waiting for him in Room Number Seven. Someone who had no attachments to him and no ties to his life. Ever since his father had passed unexpectedly, leaving him with a bank account balance that might have cleared the debts of one or two small countries and the controlling interest in the family business, Arthur had noticed a change in the way people treated him. He thought, a little egotistically, that overnight it seemed as though everyone he met knew his name. Or worse, thought they knew who he really was. He hadn't had a proper shag in months because the men and women he entertained weren't attracted to him. They were attracted to the idea of him, of his wealth and the press coverage that had haunted him in the wake of Uther's funeral.

He was drunk the first time he contacted the service, Excalibur. He thought that was a little on the nose, but it caught his eye. Someone had slipped him a card in a club and he hadn't realized he'd pocketed it automatically until he dumped his jacket on the floor when he arrived home. There was a QR code printed on the back. Reclining on his couch, he scanned the code with his phone.

It took him a second to realize exactly what he was looking at. He had been redirected to an escort service. He thumbed away from the screen and tossed his phone on the couch. What utter rubbish.

He was curious though. The landing page of the website, which depicted a group of beautiful men and women with the sort of rakishly charming looks you might find on a historical BBC One feature, was burned into his mind. They all had their backs to the screen, heads turned suggestively over bare shoulders, just enough to get an idea of a profile, but not enough to identify any one in particular. All of the women had waist length hair, tumbledown their backs or pinned in braided up-dos. All the men were broad shouldered, paragons of sinew and muscle.

He scanned the code again, for another look. It took him three more drinks to select the, "Make Contact" button at the bottom of the menu "About Us".

A chat feature popped up over his screen.

> Hello, how can we be of service?

Arthur stared for a long time before responding. He went through a lengthy questionnaire and a menu of profiles that was so long (and frankly tedious) that Arthur might have stopped out of sheer annoyance when his gaze fell on one profile in particular.

_Experienced service submissive, kink friendly, options negotiable._

This, sounded like exactly what he needed. If it had been a long time since he'd had a proper shag, it had been far longer since he had played. Of course it wasn't that easy. This particular escort was calling at a higher rate, and required additional screening.

He passed. But it took a bloody week.

Now here he was, holding the card he had received at the bar where he had been instructed to pick it up and hadn't left his stool since.

He checked his watch. He wasn't late yet, but he was right on the edge, and that more than anything got him up and moving. He prided himself on his punctuality. And what was he worried about anyway? It was just sex. And even if this escort recognized him, the service had assured him of discretion.

He must be sodding mad.

But he climbed the stairs of the hotel lobby anyway, and set off down the hall to enter room number seven.

Arthur thought about knocking, and then didn't. He simply slid the key into the lock and waited for the click. He pushed the door open, and was immediately dumbfounded by what he saw.

The room was exquisite of course, muted colors and king sized bed. But at the far end of the room was a young man, standing by a table set under the bay window, in nothing but a pair of brown suede pants.

Somehow, he didn't appear to notice that Arthur had entered, and he was standing barefoot beside the round table, thumbing through his cell, one of his hands casually dipped into a pocket. Arthur wasn't impressed. He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this.

They were probably the same age, or in the same vicinity. He had ink black hair with a gentle curl to it, and skin the color of starlight. Against the backdrop of the blackened sky and the city lights through the window, there was something mesmerizing about his profile. But he looked nothing like the photos on the website. This wasn't a muscled knight in shining armor. This man was lithe, his body arranged in a series of sharp bones - hips, ribs, cheeks - and soft curving lines - the dip of his spine, his shoulders, his throat.

Already this was shaping up to be a tragic mistake. Arthur let the door fall from his hands. It closed with an audible snap. The man standing at the table didn't jump, but Arthur could see his muscles tighten under his skin and was satisfied to know that he had been startled at the very least.

Sliding his phone into a knit beanie and stuffing it into the arm of a flannel, the man finally turned to face him. It was insolent and he was already so frustrated with the way everything had turned out and now here was this twink practically glued to his phone when Arthur was prepared to pay him an enormous amount of money for sex.

He stopped short when the guy turned. Glacial blue eyes cut across him, appraising his hair, his face, his suit. He cocked an eyebrow, giving a crooked grin that made Arthur want to devour him.

"Hey, you must be AP."

Arthur took the hand reflexively and shook. It felt like the strangest first date in the history of mankind.

"Quite a grip you've got there," he said with a small chuckle. Arthur trailed his eyes over him. He had this habit of sinking into his hips, shoulders rounding forward. He appeared to be fairly tall, actually, but he unconsciously tried to make himself smaller.

"You can call me Emrys."

"Nice to meet you," Arthur said. Another automatic response.

"Can I take your coat?"

Arthur let him pull the wool coat from his shoulders, just for some time to think. When he had built out this night in his head, he had been prepared for a different type of man - someone heavier and more defined. He would have to improvise a little. That would be fine. As soon as he could tell that they had begun, that is.

"Can I get you anything?" Emrys called over his shoulder as he carefully placed Arthur's coat on a hanger and hung it up in the closet.

There was something in his accent that Arthur couldn't quite place. It was the softening in the tr sound, the rolling steps of his rs. He was frustrated again. He had never paid for sex before - how were you supposed to get the whole thing started? Was it polite to rush the party? Did it matter what was polite?

It must have shown on his face, because when Emrys turned to look at him, something changed in his expression. Arthur had the uncomfortable feeling that Emrys could read his thoughts. The black haired man crossed the room in a few quick strides and slid to the floor at Arthur's feet as if it were the only right thing to do in the entire world.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I should have started here."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, he wanted to reach out and touch. But he was still wired, and everything seemed too real. He needed the world to blur tonight.

Arthur watched those blue eyes as he began loosening his tie.

"Clarify something for me?" He said, tossing the garment away. Next were his cuffs.

"Of course," Emrys said, looking slightly concerned.

"Were you the one looking over my requests? Or was it someone else? Excalibur seems like a large enough establishment to have an assistant or two. Certainly you weren't present during the online chats?"

He decided to roll his cuffs instead of removing the shirt entirely. Emrys shook his head slowly.

"No, it wasn't me."

"Then we need to have a talk," he said, and reached down, bodily lifting the young man off the ground. He was heavier than expected. All muscle under his skin.

Emrys recovered quickly, hands on Arthur's arms to steady himself before following the blonde business tycoon to the bed. Arthur couldn't identify the look in those blue eyes, so he merely sat, and gestured that Emrys should sit too.

He did, keeping a respectable distance between them, which made Arthur want to laugh.

"Hard limits, I want to hear them from your own mouth," he said gently, turning to face his black haired partner.

There was a moment of silence and then Emrys spoke. His hard limits were all the same ones Arthur had been given, except one.

"Blindfolds?" Arthur mused. "I don't remember seeing that one the list."

Emrys stiffened. Without giving it much thought, Arthur reached out a hand and ran his fingers through Emrys' hair. Brushing a thumb over his worried brow. The blue eyes lost a little of their sharpness, but his shoulders were still tense. It was that look that made him hesitate briefly on his next question, but he had seen the scar on Emrys's hip - a raised, angry looking blemish about four inches long, reaching up to his abdomen. The puncture marks from the sutures were still visible.

"Any injuries or long term illnesses I should know about?"

A quiet, "No."

Emrys shifted, and Arthur could tell that he was aware of the reason the question had been asked. He made a mental note not to draw attention to the scar again unless as a necessary safety precaution.

"If you need to slow down?" Arthur prompted, feeling a little better now that he had control of the situation. It bothered him about the blindfold - he was sure he'd seen it on Emery's list of acceptable tools and tricks.

"Yellow."

Arthur stood, examining the room one more time, letting out a slow breath.

"And to stop?"

"Red."

"If you can't speak?"

Hesitation. Arthur frowned, glancing over his shoulder.

"Sorry," that crooked smile again. "I don't think I have one for that. Never needed one."

It sounded like a crude joke. But something about the thing made Arthur wary.

"You shouldn't assume you won't need one. When I check in with you, hold up one finger for green, two for yellow and three for red. Show me."

Emrys rolled his eyes. Held up his forefinger, middle, and then his thumb. His eyes widened when he caught the look on Arthur's face.

"Oh, shit I'm sorry, I didn't mean - it's not..."

Emrys was still sitting on the bed, but when Arthur crossed the room he slid from the edge and onto his knees, still babbling. He seemed legitimately sorry, which Arthur could work with. And it was starting to become clear to him that Emrys wasn't the kind of person who could sit still or quiet himself for very long. They were going to have to work on that.

He gripped a fist full of black curls and tipped Emrys's head back sharply, giving it a little shake.

"Shut up, Emrys."

Immediately the body under his hand stilled.

"All I wanted was to make sure you were safe, but you couldn't be serious for two minutes, could you?"

He trailed his fingers along the smooth jaw, watched Emrys suppress a shudder at his touch, and then lifted his chin. Emrys kept his eyes down, but allowed his face to be raised to easily enough.

"You wanted to belittle my efforts to make you safe?"

"Of course not, it was..." The blue eyes widened again at the look on Arthur's face. Arthur's grip tightened on his chin.

"Were you given permission to speak?" He hissed.

Emrys opened his mouth, closed it. Shook his head.

"Good," Arthur murmured, running his knuckles down a pale cheek. "That was very good, Emrys. Not so hard is it?"

Blue eyes fluttered. Another shake of his head.

"Do you like being told when you do well, Emrys?" Arthur said quietly in his ear.

A shy nod. _Interesting._ Praise was also not on his list anywhere. He would double check in the morning, just to be sure, but Arthur was beginning to wonder again about the limits that had been set down.

Gently, he threaded fingers through the black curls, and pressed the young man kneeling at his feet forward until his pale forehead was pressed against Arthur's thigh. He played with Emrys's hair as he spoke, and did not miss the way the man leaned into his fingers, seeking more.

"Emrys, from this point on I'm going to consider our playtime has begun. If I do anything that makes you nervous, that you don't like, you have to tell me."

A shift in the shoulders against his leg. The face lifted to gaze up at him.

Arthur smiled benevolently.

"You may speak."

The blue eyes glittered. Arthur saw a challenge there.

"I won't need to."

Arthur's smile became predatory.

"You might. What did I say about safe words when you can't speak?"

He ran his fingers down the back of Emrys's neck. The shell of his ear. It made Emrys tilt his head invitingly. Stutter on his words a bit.

"That I...I shouldn't assume I won't need..."

He trailed off when Arthur massaged his scalp, letting out a tiny noise, head tilted toward the floor. Arthur yanked his head back. Blue eyes flew open with a gasp.

"It!" He cried. "I shouldn't assume I won't need it."

Arthur took his chin, stared down at him, cataloguing his breathing, his eyes, his hands; splayed along the carpet and one of them, wrapped around the back of Arthur's calf for support.

"Very good," Arthur said. You will address me as Sir, from now on." A moan caught in Emrys's throat.

"Yes, sir."

Arthur pulled on Emrys's hair, making him hiss.

"Up."

He bodily turned Emrys to face the bed once he had stumbled to his feet, and Arthur did not miss the fact that he was half hard already. Sensitive, and receptive to praise. Oh... Arthur could work with this.

The room was furnished with a four poster bed, which was a welcome surprise. As he walked Emrys to the end of the bed, he measured the distance between the posts.

He forced Emrys to hold the posts of the bed with his hands, high up over his head and spread his legs.

"Don't move. You can make whatever noises you need to, but do not speak unless it is to use your safe word." He whispered in Emrys's ear, watched the shiver it caused ricochet down his exquisite spine. "Do you understand?"

A nod.

Arthur just stared for a moment, watched and waited until the muscles in Emrys's back became tense, as though he were thinking about turning around. Arthur stepped into him then, making the young man gasp. Arthur smiled against his shoulder, lips trailing the skin there. And drew his hands up bony hips to a high ribcage, and further. When he reached Emrys's nipples, flicked with his thumbs, he bit down hard on Emrys's shoulder.

The shout he got in response was perfect. Emrys's hands nearly slipped off the bed posts but he managed to recover. Arthur sucked on the mark. Continued stroking Emrys. Memorizing the places that made him cry out in earnest. The ones that made him moan.

He bit him three more times. Once on his ribs. Once on the opposite hip. Emrys's head came back with every one. He sucked each of the marks until he was sure they would bruise. And then running his hands over the pale skin of his back, Arthur pressed his thumbs into the tense muscles of Emrys's shoulders and began working out the kinks.

That did something for Emrys, though Arthur wasn't entirely clear on what. He let out a strangled sound, his hands nearly slipping again. Arthur kept this up for longer than he planned to, because Emrys was starting to sag a little, his head tilted forward, his shoulders lowered. And because he actually was very tense, and Arthur wanted him soft. Pliable.

Arthur slapped him, hard, across his ass.

Emrys didn't react except to jerk forward, one hand coming off the post of the bed to stop himself from falling forward onto the mattress. But his breathing was erratic. His eyes wide. The only reason he hadn't made a sound was because he was still in shock.

"Up," Arthur said. "As you were."

Emrys raised his arms again, slowly. Lifting himself back to stand between the bed posts. His body was tense again. His shoulders high.

Arthur pressed into him from behind.

"Did I startle you?"

Emrys glared at the wall for a moment, he looked as though he were going to turn to glare at Arthur which he thought was wildly amusing. And then the blue eyes closed. Emrys nodded, and it was clear he didn't want to admit it.

"Thank you," Arthur crooned in his ear, reaching down to stroke Emrys through the fabric of his pants. "That was very good Emrys."

The hands wrapped around the posts gripped them so hard Arthur actually heard the wood creak. Emrys was trying so hard not to buck, not to move at all, that his thighs had begun trembling. He was absolutely straining in his pants. Arthur continued stroking him while he spoke.

"How was it?" He said. "You may speak to give me a color."

Emrys let out a whine when Arthur added a little more pressure to his hand.

"Green!" Emrys gasped. "Green, sir, please..."

Arthur smiled. Kissed the bare shoulder again. He pushed the hem of Emrys's pants down on his hips. Made him step out of them so Arthur could admire the sight of him. Then he molded his body to Emrys's back, and stripped him hard and fast in his fist.

Emrys let out a whining series of staccato mewls that made Arthur moan into the back of his neck. He pumped Emrys until he was sure he could feel his abdomen tightening up under his other hand. He would have to time this just right. It would be tricky. He'd never seen this man come before. But he knew the signs well enough.

He almost felt bad.

Almost.

Emrys was moaning in earnest now, his black curls damp with sweat. He jerked his hips, unable to check the motion, his swollen lips parting.

Arthur pumped him hard twice more, and then let go of Emrys entirely and stepped back.

Emrys came with a sob, and Arthur was pleased to have timed it right. The orgasm ruined, Emrys sagged forward a little, the climax released with no sensation to ride on so that it was over without any high point. His whole body was shaking, and the sounds he was making were so pitiful. It was beautiful.

"You let go of the bed post," Arthur said by way of explanation. He crossed to the cabinet, retrieved one of the items he had requested and came back to the bed.

"What were my instructions when we started?" Arthur asked conversationally as he unravelled two hanks of rope.

"Don't move." Emrys repeated in a whisper. "You can make whatever noises you need to, but do not speak unless it is to use your safe word."

There was something in Emrys's tone that made Arthur pause in what he was doing. Carefully he set the rope down on the floor and came back to stand behind the man.

"Turn around," he said softly. "You can lower your arms."

Emrys turned, a little unsteady, and though he ducked his head Arthur caught the state of his expression.

Arthur put his hands on the pale cheeks. Lifted his face to look into those glacial blue eyes. He was crying. Arthur had made many if his play partners cry, but there was something different about this. The heat in those pale cheeks. The anger that seemed to be rolling off him in waves.

"Color." He said firmly.

Blue eyes closed. His expression darkening and clearing again behind his eyelids.

"Green," he said firmly.

Arthur hesitated. Emrys said the word like a person might say 'I hate you'. It wasn't entirely clear if he was saying it because Arthur was a customer or if he truly did feel prepared to go on. Arthur, troubled by this, brushed his thumbs over the brow, smoothing out the frown. Brushed away the tears. That made Emrys jerk his head a little and Arthur understood.

"You don't enjoy it when people see you cry," he said. Emrys glared at the space between them, which was no space at all.

"Was that a question, sir?" Somehow he made the sentence so sarcastic Arthur might have been surprised if he hadn't been expecting the rejoinder. He made a mental note that Emrys was prone to bratty behavior when he was uncomfortable.

Arthur let out a long breath through his nose.

"Turn around." He said suddenly, making Emrys flinch. "If you can't hold still on your own, I'm going to have to help you."

Emrys did as he was told, like a petulant child at chores.

"Keep it up," Arthur warned. "You were being so good for me. I don't want to have to punish you again."

Emrys relaxed a little, the words having an immediate effect. But something was still off. If this were any familiar partner, Arthur might have stopped the scene. Honestly the guy could just be a huge brat, but it didn't feel like that. This felt emotional. Arthur was struck with the sudden realization that he wanted to know this man. Why he was feeling so frustrated with the scene, and how could Arthur make it better for him? Because he wanted to. He wanted Emrys to give into him so badly, it was painful. But there was something in the way.

"You didn't like that, very much did you? Ruining an orgasm. Answer me."

Emrys was still struggling with his anger. It took him too long to answer.

Arthur tied him to the bedposts without comment. Secured his ankles and his knees to the base board. It kept him a little off balance slightly pressed forward, hovering over the mattress. His eyes went wide when he felt his weight settle on his shoulders. His knees.

Arthur barely gave him time to settle into the ropes. He reached around the thin waist and took Emrys in his hand.

"No," he heard the startled breathless cry pass Emrys's lips.

But it wasn't a safeword.

Arthur pumped him hard and fast and didn't stop.

Emrys keened struggling to move away, his hips twisting and his oversensitised cock hardening in Arthur's fist.

"I'm sorry!" He shouted, turning his head away. He didn't sound sorry.

Arthur was unaffected.

"It won't happen again, I swear, I'm sorry!"

His composure was starting to unravel, he pulled his abdomen in, trying to create some space, but Arthur was directly behind him, and the ropes held him fast.

Arthur pressed him harder, heard the tears in the back of Emrys's throat. Thin shoulders hunched, and a sob escaped. His breathing began to back up on him, and Arthur closed one arm around Emrys's chest.

He sagged when Arthur released him. Letting Arthur hold him up. Sucking in deep breaths like he had been drowning.

Arthur let him lean back against him. Felt the wings of his shoulder blades pressing into his chest. He flinched when Arthur ran a hand down his ribcage as though soothing.

"If you willfully ignore me again," Arthur whispered dangerously. "I will make you come three more times like that. I won't stop in between. And we won't stop until you're spent. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," a wet gasp. "I'm sorry. I..." he was babbling now. Arthur let him as he moved away to remove a water bottle from the fridge and stepped in front of Emrys so that he could see him crack the seal. He took the pale chin and tipped the bottle to his lips. Emrys drank, eyes closing over more unshed tears and shuddered.

When he was finished Arthur kissed him. Emrys moaned into his mouth, the press of their lips heavy and urgent and Arthur relished every moment. He nipped at the full bottom lip when he pulled away, amused when Emrys chased the sensation with his mouth.

"Relax," Arthur heard himself saying. "Let me take care of you."

Coming up behind him, Arthur pulled Emrys's hips back, and smoothed his hands over the swell of his ass. Emrys moaned as he massaged the flesh. Fingers sliding along the seam where his cheeks met his thighs.

He slapped him, hard.

Emrys did cry out this time. He gasped when Arthur hit him the second time. Through the first ten, mostly he just let out heavy breaths through his nose. His mouth. When Arthur slapped him full across that seam, his palm snapping against the crack of his ass, Emrys choked back a wail. He was hard again. Pre-come beaded on the tip of his swollen cock. His ass was bruised and hot to the touch.

Arthur hit him again, and again until Emrys was panting, arching away from his hands.

"Color."

"Gr-green," the voice was tremulous. Arthur ran his hands along the flanks of Emrys's body. Softly coaxing him down.

"You're doing so well for me," Arthur said reverently, and he meant it. Emrys whimpered. "Easy, Fy annwyl," the words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think it through. "Easy. Ten more. I want you to count them out, and then all is forgiven. Can you do that?"

Emrys nodded. His breath shuddered in his chest.

Arthur kissed the back of his neck and stepped back.

The first blow sent Emrys rocking up onto his toes despite the ropes. He cried out.

"One, Jesus!"

Arthur laughed at that in surprise.

"Silence isn't your strength, Emrys." He said, matter of factly. He hit him two more times in succession and Emrys moaned as he counted them off.

"Maybe we should work on that," Arthur mused conversationally, giving Emrys time to breathe. "You seem like a man who likes a challenge."

No, Arthur thought immediately after the words had left his mouth. He seems like a man who needs to prove he can rise to a challenge.

He brought his hand down so hard across the back of Emrys's thigh then, that Arthur felt the impact in his wrist. Emrys let out a shout, the imprint of Arthur's hand already burning an outline into his skin. When they reached number 6, Arthur was startled by Emrys's sudden cry.

"Wait! Wait please, I..."

He was panting, sweat making his curls stick to his forehead. Arthur was up against him immediately, a knee between his legs to give him some support in the ropes.

Emrys groaned. He didn't continue so Arthur prompted him.

"Color? Emrys what's wrong?"

His head tilted back against Arthur's shoulder, breathing hard.

"Green," he whispered. "So green but I..." his head lolled. "If you hit me again I...I'll..."

Arthur saw what the problem was immediately. Emrys was so close his cock was actually kissing his stomach. It looked painfully hard.

"God," Arthur hissed. "You're perfect."

Emrys's back arched from the words alone and Arthur rubbed his shoulders. His arms.

"Easy. Easy," he crooned. "You did so well to tell me."

As he spoke he took Emrys's arms down slowly, unbound his legs and let him come down from the spanking. His pupils were blown. He kept his eyes down but placed his hands on Arthur's chest tentatively for support.

"Keep your feet," Arthur told him a little breathlessly, and then dropped to his knees and took Emrys into his mouth.

Immediately the man let out cry, his fingers digging into Arthur's hair. He bent forward, wailing incoherently as Arthur sucked him off, pressing his fingers into the bruised flesh of his bottom.

Emrys screamed when he came, his whole body reacting to the sensation and Arthur was so turned on all at once that he needed to be inside him. Now.

Emrys was shaking when Arthur stood to meet him, his hands on his hips to steady the man. He kissed him, deep and long and then turned him around and pressed him into the edge of the bed, his hand between the pale shoulders.

He worked Emrys open slowly, making the black haired beauty fuck back against his fingers, panting into the sheets. He was mewling incoherently when Arthur added a third finger. Fisted his hands in the bedclothes.

"May I speak?" He whispered shyly. Arthur raised his eyebrows, took a good long look at Emrys. He looked dazed. His pupils so wide his blue eyes appeared black.

"You may," Arthur said quietly. Emrys choked on a shout when Arthur brushed up against something inside of him, turning his forehead into the mattress.

"Please don't stop," Emrys whimpered. "You're brilliant, I need it. Sir."

The last he added with such carelessness that it made Arthur laugh out loud again.

"Christ," he said reaching for a condom. "If I punished you for everything you did wrong Emrys, you'd never be able to sit down comfortably again."

"But you said I could speak, sir."

His lips were bending into a lazy smile. Arthur pressed his forehead to Emrys's back. Laughed. Opened the condom.

"You know what you did," Arthur whispered.

"I do, sir." Emrys admitted with another goofy smile.

"What am I going to do with you?" Arthur said, mostly to himself.

He lined himself up with Emrys's entrance. Rocked in a little bit.

Their love making was urgent. Emrys up on one elbow, Arthur pounding into him, forcing his cock to thrust against the duvet and Emrys could barely contain himself. Sweat pooled in the hollow between his shoulder blades. Arthur felt himself coming apart.

He reached forward. Pulled Emrys's hair so that his neck arched. Fucked him into the mattress.

When Arthur came, Emrys cried out with him, and for one blinding moment, the world turned a searing sharpened white.

Arthur pulled away slowly, letting his forehead drag along Emrys's spine just to keep contact with his heaving body. He shuddered when Arthur pulled free, his eyes blinking open and closed slowly.

Arthur reached up, brushed away the damp curls. Kissed the pale temple.

"You were so good Emrys," Arthur whispered. "How are you feeling?"

Emrys hummed, stretched his arms out like a cat. Arthur, felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"There's something about you," he said quietly. "I can't quite put my finger on it."

Quickly, Arthur pulled on his pants, left his shirt cuffed and buttoned. And readjusted his belt.

The young man was starting to fidget a bit. Arthur tilted his head and really looked at Emrys then. His pupils were still blown, and his shoulders had begun to shake. Arthur felt his eyebrows hit his hairline.

He reached down, placed a hand gently on Emrys's back. Felt the muscles jump under his palm.

"Emrys, can you stand up for me?"

The black curls bobbed as he nodded, and Arthur mentally counted two questions that had been answered by a nod or a shake of the head.

Had there been any reference to non-verbal states in his profile? Arthur's frown deepened. He didn't think so.

Just as he was helping Emrys stand, there was a knock at the door. Arthur jumped, so intent on the situation that he barely registered that they were in a hotel anymore. Emrys let out a small whine when Arthur's hands slipped from his skin. He remembered reading some material about end of evening procedures, but he admittedly mostly skimmed over them. Now he recalled that at the appointed time, someone would be by to pick up his escort and he would be given leave of the room for another hour before he would be charged for additional time. He glanced at the clock. He had purchased half an evening which amounted to four hours. How could it possibly be midnight already?

Another knock.

"Just a minute," Arthur snapped. The knocking stopped.

He lowered Emrys to the floor, leaned him back against the bed and pulled the throw blanket down off the foot of it. Wrapping Emrys in the blanket he tilted the pale chin up, and was met with a sleepy, half conscious gaze.

"Emrys," he said. "Will you be alright if I answer the door?"

A short nod. To his surprise, Emrys leaned in, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Rested his face against Arthur's cheek.

"That's it, isn't it?" Arthur said quietly. Pulling back a little he smoothed his palms along the black curls, down the sides of his face. "It's about the feeling with you. The tactile response."

A smile toyed at Emrys's lips.

He wanted to continue this, to get more answers, unravel more of the mystery, but the tension in the room was tightening around his ribcage. There was someone here to take Emrys away and he didn't need his card rescinded because he failed to open the door quickly enough.

"I'm going to answer the door, Emrys. Will you be okay until I come back?" He asked again.

Emrys dropped his head to Arthur's collarbone with enough force to make Arthur rock a little on his heels. He nodded.

"Use your words, love," Arthur forced himself to say. He cupped the back of a pale neck with his hand. "Let me hear you say it."

Emrys frowned and pulled back, blinking. Seemed not to understand at first. Arthur held his breath.

"I'll be...here." He said finally, his voice trailing off into a bit of a slur. His accent was heavy now. Northern Irish, if Arthur hadn't missed his guess.

Arthur kissed him again, and Emrys smiled against his lips.

He pulled away to a contented hum, and Arthur kept one eye on the young man as he crossed the room to open the door.

There was a broad man standing outside, wearing a crisp suit and an absent expression on his face despite the tension in his neck. He was irritated at being made to wait.

"Sir. My name is Agravaine. I'm here to show your escort out."

Arthur opened the door reflexively, because this was how it worked and who was he to say otherwise? But it took him a long time to let it fall closed again. Emrys was floating and he needed a chance to come down.

Arthur watched with a growing sense of unease as the man crossed the room to Emrys and lifted him to his feet by his arms as though he were a rag doll.

"Come on then. Wake yourself up," he heard Agravaine hiss under his breath. Arthur watched, unable to move, his heart picking up a pace in his throat.

Emrys stumbled with Agravaine to the table where his things were still laying, and fumbled with them, his expression clouding over as he became more aware. He felt the hair on the back of his arms stand on end when Agravaine shoved Emrys's coat into his unsteady arms, the blanket dropping off his slim shoulder. He couldn't do this. It wasn't right.

Arthur crossed the room to the desk phone and dialed the number on the back of the black key card he held in his fingers. He turned as Agravaine was picking up the brown pants Emrys had been wearing from the floor with a scowl on his face.

"Agravaine was it?" Arthur inquired casually, tilting the phone away from his mouth. The man looked up, straightened when he noticed Arthur had the phone up to his ear.

"Yes, sir."

"Please wait a moment, I've decided to extend my evening."

Agravaine stared at him, seemed like he was about to protest when suddenly a voice echoed through the receiver. Arthur held up a finger, never taking his eyes off the man.

"Hello, Mr. Pendragon, this is Gwen and I will be assisting you this evening. How may I be of service?"

"Gwen, thank you. I would like to extend my appointment in room seven to a full night. Do you think you could help me with that?"

"Certainly. I'm so pleased to hear you were satisfied. As it turns out this evening we have availability in room seven. There will be no problem extending your time."

"Thank you, I have someone here at the moment - Agravaine? Would you please confirm with him his services are no longer required?"

"Of course."

Arthur waved the brutish man forward, and handed him the phone. He took a moment to check on Emrys as he did. He was still clutching his things, the blanket slipped down over trembling shoulders. He was staring at his coat and pants as though he weren't quite sure what to do with them.

"Emrys," Arthur said, a command in his tone. The blue eyes lifted to his. "Sit down."

He did so without hesitation, slumping into one of the chairs at the table, his eyes falling closed.

Agravaine hung up the phone and turning to Arthur, he gave a curt nod and said, "I will be back at 4 A.M."

He left with a snap of the door.

Arthur let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and immediately locked the door behind the man before crossing the room to Emrys.

He knelt down in front of the chair and murmured quietly, as one would to a wounded animal.

"Emrys, can you look at me?"

Blue eyes focused on him. Clouded over and tight around the edges with tension.

Arthur could still see the traces there behind the eyes, he hadn't bottomed out but he was definitely dropping. His shoulders were shaking hard enough to rattle his teeth.

"Ok," Arthur said, more to himself than the other man, as he stood up. "Ok, Emrys..."

He trailed off, working the pale fingers from the bundle between his hands. Set the pants and the flannel and the coat on the table gently. He took the pale hands in his own and was surprised to find them cold. Impulsively, he cupped his hands around Emrys's fingers and blew on them.

Emrys made a soft sound in the back of his throat. Maybe one of appreciation? Arthur couldn't be sure.

He stood, carefully guiding Emrys's hands to his shoulders. Then lifted him into his arms. Emrys was immediately pliable, his body molding to fit Arthur's in the negative spaces. He was still shaking, his legs crossing delicately at the ankles as Arthur made for the bed. He hesitated there when the shaking started to redouble. Instead he turned and made for the bathroom.

He sat down on the edge of the massive tub, Emrys in his lap, and turned the taps slowly with one hand. When he was satisfied that the water was good and hot, he buried his hands in the sweat damp curls, and carded his fingers through them. Brushing Emrys's scalp. The back of his neck.

Emrys was still shaking when without warning, his breathing hitched. His face was buried in Arthur's neck, but the blonde could feel the pressure in his ribs as he tried not to make a sound while he cried.

Arthur wanted to say something. But he wasn't sure what would work. He didn't know Emrys well enough. He pressed his face into the top of his head, stared at their huddled bodies in the mirror as the water filled the tub.

"Emrys?" Arthur said, still running his fingers through his hair. "You were perfect. We're almost done. I just need one more thing from you, okay?"

Earnestly, Emrys shook his head, a strangled sob escaping as he did. Arthur trailed his fingers along the curve of a bare shoulder, pleased with the shiver it caused.

"Why not?" He murmured.

"I can't," Emrys heaved into his shoulder.

"You can," Arthur said gently. "You can because I say you can."

To his surprise, Emrys wrapped his long arms around his neck. Pressed them closer together if that was even possible. He was was still catching his breath, and Arthur was patient. He turned off the taps. Let the steam hang in the air. Finally Emrys spoke, his voice raw and his accent back in full force.

"What can I do?"

Arthur smiled against his shoulder.

"Stand up for me, love," he said. "We can start there."

The tiles were heated, thank God. Emrys came to his feet shakily, but managed to stand still as Arthur rose stiffly to meet him. He cupped his face in both hands. Rubbed away the worry lines with his thumbs. He did not force Emrys to lift his eyes because it was obvious he had been crying.

"Unbutton my shirt," he said firmly. Emrys reached for him at once, his breath still backing up on him as he did. His fingers were shaking badly at first but the motions began to smooth out as he reached Arthur's belt. He glanced up tentatively, fingers resting on the buckle. Arthur pressed their foreheads together, still holding Emrys's face in his hands.

"Continue," he said.

Emrys had more control of himself when he helped Arthur step out of his trousers. Arthur unwrapped Emrys from the blanket and tossed it aside. And then helped him into the bath.

Arthur stepped in behind him, winced in sympathy when Emrys hissed as he lowered himself into the water. He would need to put some aloe on his bruises before the night was over.

The heat sank into his bones as they sat, and Arthur pulled the still shaking shoulders back until they met his damp chest. Emrys huffed a bit, but complied, relaxing eventually into Arthur.

They didn't speak, not at first. Arthur bracketed the man between his thighs and his arms, letting Emrys sink in a little further, his shoulders and chest mostly covered in the water. Even with such a massive tub, Arthur was amused to find that Emrys's long legs didn't quite fit, and he had to bend his knees, turning his cheek into Arthur's chest to find a comfortable place to rest. Arthur let him drift for a while, sluicing water gently onto the pale back and shoulders to keep him warm. He never actually dozed off, but his body began slowly to relax. His eyes drifting open and closed.

Arthur spied a complimentary bottle of shampoo on the shelf and took it down. It smelled like bergamot and cedar. He poured some into his hands and began to work it through the black curls, despite the awkward angle. Emrys started, but not badly. It didn't take long for him to accommodate Arthur's position until he was sitting up with his forehead resting on his bony knees, giving him the access he needed to properly wash his hair. Arthur had the distinct impression that if Emrys could purr, he'd be doing it. Arthur felt himself starting to relax as well.

Emrys hummed pleasantly when Arthur helped him rinse out his hair.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, tracing patterns absently on Emrys's skin.

"Good," he said softly. "Better. Thank you."

Arthur was amused by the sudden formality in his tone.

"Will you lie down for a bit? I'd like to talk before I leave you."

Emrys ran a hand through his wet hair and nodded absently. Arthur stood and helped him out of the tub, enfolding him in a heavy bathrobe before toweling off his hair.

"Go on," Arthur chided gently. "I'll be right behind you."

Blue eyes sparkled a pleasant gratitude as Emrys turned to sink under the covers as he had the warm water.

Arthur crawled in beside him, barking out a surprised laugh when Emrys was not shy about worming his way over to where Arthur was. He pressed in close, tangling his legs in Arthur's, sliding cold hands into his bathrobe to leech the heat from his skin. Arthur swore through his grin, absurdly relieved by this show of affection.

He tangled them up together and for a while, just touched, and allowed Emrys to touch. Until the tension had finally passed.

"I want to talk to you about what happened when you moved your hands without permission."

Emrys blew out a breath, but Arthur couldn't tell yet if he was being cautious or if he was annoyed.

"What about it?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the ceiling. His accent was back under control. Curious.

"I think I understand now, why you reacted badly to it."

To hide the press of his lips into a thin, disapproving line, Emrys waited to hear Arthur's explanation with a look on his face that could only be described as - _Oh this should be good._

Arthur looked him in the eyes when he spoke, his palms warm on the back of Emrys's plush bathrobe.

"The tactile sense is what does it for you, and I took that from you. It was too harsh a punishment for such a small transgression."

Emrys frowned, leaned his chin on Arthur's chest, now practically laying on top of him when he spoke.

"It's whatever you want in there. You don't have to worry about me."

Arthur sat up on his elbows. Really looked at the other man. The action startled Emrys into total awareness and for a long time they both simply stared at each other.

"It isn't good for me, when you're frustrated by the scene Emrys. Your feelings are valid. And I can't play with you again if you won't be honest with me about those things."

Black eyebrows arched.

"You want to play again?"

"Not if you're going to be unsafe."

Emrys snorted, actually laughed into his chest and rolled off the bed.

"So serious," he said, searching for something on the table. Arthur watched him for a minute before growling dangerously.

"Emrys. Did I say you could get up?"

The other man froze, his brows dipping over his blue eyes. He hesitated, then glancing at Arthur admitted quietly.

"No."

"No?" Arthur arched an eyebrow coldly.

Emrys swallowed.

"No, sir."

"What did I tell you would happen, if you willfully ignored me again?"

Emrys had to brace his hands on the table, his head dropping between his shoulders. A low moan shuddered against his ribs. Arthur felt warmth flooding his skin at the sound. If he was acting, he was damn good.

He stood and crossed to the table, pressed himself up against the other man. Emrys jumped, made a small noise he would be humiliated to have made at any other time in his life.

"That's what I thought," Arthur purred. "You don't want it to go off like fireworks. You need it to go off like a nuclear bomb."

As he spoke, he slid his hand in between the folds of Emrys's bathrobe. Pressing his palm to the hard muscled abdomen beneath.

Emrys dug his nails into the wood. Suppressed a whimper.

"When I took you in my hand after you came, you wanted me to continue. You weren't sorry. Because you can't have anything by half measures, can you Emrys? You need them in spades."

His hand trailed over a bony hip. Pressed open hard-muscled thighs. Scratching lightly. Exploring.

"Tell me," Arthur warned. Emrys let out a whine.

"It's true, sir. I...wanted that."

"Hands flat on the table, Emrys."

He did as he was told immediately, lowering his head. Arthur considered removing the bathrobe altogether. But he didn't want Emrys distracted by being cold. Instead he loosened the ties. Allowed it to fall open.

Emrys sucked in a breath when Arthur took him in hand, stroked him agonizingly slowly. His grip firm.

"Let's play a game," Arthur purred in his ear. "Are you ready to hear the rules?"

A whimper and a nod.

"I'll allow that for now. But you'll have to use your words to win this game. Do you understand?"

Another nod.

"It's very simple. I'm going to continue this until you're wrung out. Just like I warned you I would. But I'm going to give you a chance to make it up to me."

Emrys let out a strangled sound when Arthur started to move his fist in harder, sharper motions, twisting his wrist.

"Do you want to make it up to me, Emrys?"

A whine. And then, "Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm going to ask you some questions about your likes and dislikes. If you answer them to my satisfaction, you can ask me to go slower, or faster. If you don't, we will stay right here for three climaxes until you can't hold yourself upright anymore. If you manage to hold yourself off until I'm done asking questions altogether," he slid his free hand to Emrys's hip, and he bucked involuntarily at the touch. "Then I will make you come with my mouth."

Emrys choked on the words alone as Arthur stroked him, his motions maddeningly steady.

"Does that sound fair?"

"Yes, sir."

A hitched moan. Arthur kissed the back of his neck.

"Hot or cold?" Arthur said quietly.

Emrys bit his lip.

"Both," he managed. Arthur tilted his head from one side to the other, not really convinced.

"You don't like being cold," he countered.

"No," Emrys agreed. "But I like...I like..."

Arthur waited, recognizing the difference between trying to think of the right way to say something, and losing the words entirely.

"I like what the cold does when it's controlled. When it's...when someone applies it."

"And heat?"

Emrys let out a helpless laugh. "I just like being warm."

Arthur bit his shoulder, approvingly. Emrys arched, moaned.

"Very good."

Emrys preened, his head falling between his shoulders again.

"Pick," Arthur prompted.

"God, faster please."

"So polite," Arthur chuckled into the hair at the base of his neck. He pumped a little faster. Emrys let out a whine.

"Stinging? Or thudding?" Arthur asked.

"It isn't about the pain," Emrys said a little breathlessly. "It's about the impact. About hitting the right place at the right time."

Arthur considered this. "Is there anywhere you don't like to be hit?"

Instead if answering, Emrys lifted a hand from the table. Touched one of his ears.

"Thank you," Arthur said immediately nuzzling him from behind. "Hands back on the desk. Pick again."

"Faster," he hissed in return, both hands flat on the wood once again.

Arthur obliged him.

"God," Emrys crooned, his lower back dipping toward Arthur's hand.

"Suspension?"

"Yes," the breathless reply was more than enough. Before he could reward him however, Emrys went on. "But I prefer half suspensions, distress poses."

Arthur grinned. He had been right - Emrys needed to prove he could rise to a challenge. It made him euphoric to prove he could do it. To make a partner proud.

"Pick."

"Harder," he whimpered.

Arthur tsk'd, slowing his hand a fraction.

"That wasn't one of the options I gave you."

"Please," it came out a hoarse whisper. "Please let me come."

Arthur felt the words pool like molten lead at the base of his spine.

"How could anyone refuse when you ask so nicely?" Arthur teased. He began to really apply pressure, set a punishing pace all at once. Emrys keened, pressing his forehead to the table between his hands. His thighs were shaking.

"One more question," Arthur said. "Praise or shame?"

"Both!" Emrys was clawing at the table now in an effort not to come. Arthur could feel that exquisite spine beginning to lock up on him. The bathrobe had slipped off his thin shoulders. Arthur pressed his mouth to the exposed skin just to feel it. Just to memorize the taste.

"Sir!"

Abruptly Arthur stopped his hand, gripped the base of Emrys tightly and held. Emrys sobbed into the table. His chest heaving under Arthur's abdomen.

"Get on your back, on the bed," Arthur growled, nipping at whatever exposed skin he could reach with his teeth. He straightened to let Emrys up and followed him, crowding him down to the bed. He crawled over him, careful that they didn't touch, until Arthur had settled over the other man. Knees bracing hips. Hands bracing head. Emrys swallowed hard, his pupils blown. Arthur kissed him, hard. It was a feral, heady thing. He allowed Emrys to reach for him. Dig his nails into his shoulder blades. He hissed into Emrys's mouth and sliding fingers over a pert nipple, making Emrys buck with a groan into his teeth. He pressed his knee into one of Emrys's thighs, pinning it to the mattress. His other knee, Arthur slid right up to Emrys's aching length. Emrys cried out pathetically. Frantically seeking more from Arthur's kiss. Arthur smiled into the swollen lips. Pressed a knuckle into Emrys's sternum. Twisted.

Emrys choked on a scream, his back arching. Arthur pressed his knee closer. Rubbed his thumb along the space below Emrys's collarbone, applying pressure from his shoulder down through his arm. The contact with Arthur's knee sent diamonds tumbling down the curve of his spine. Emrys came with a silent scream, his nails pulling up welts along Arthur's bare skin.

He panted out mewling staccato whimpers as Arthur released him. Grinning above his bruised lips, triumphant. Panting the same air in and out. Emrys looked high.

"Did I get it right?" Arthur whispered, surprised by the intimacy in his own tone.

Emrys let his arms drape over Arthur's shoulders, smiling dangerously.

"Is praise one of your kinks, sir?"

Arthur bit his collar bone. Ground his hips down and groaned. Emrys arched and gasped. Laughed at the ceiling.

* * *

That night as he was walking out of the back employee entrance, his beanie pulled low over his ears against the cold, Merlin thumbed open his phone and typed a quick text.

> If he asks for me again, consider me on call.


	2. Valiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur can't let that first night go. So he books another night in room number seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest with you, this story is mostly a creative exercise on my ability to write successful erotica. Plot happens because inevitably, if you stick with any story I write...plot eventually happens. That being said if it feels like the plot is disjointed, please let me know. I wrote this story for the sex, and there is a lot of it. But I'd like to know if the plot keeps it interesting enough or not.

It wasn't long before he booked another night in room number seven. Arthur thought it was a little worrying maybe, that he was so quick to return given the risks. He could just see the headlines in the tabloids now: **Heir to Business Tycoon's Fortune Spends It All on Prostitute!**

He was struggling to maintain his father's Board of Executives as it was. He didn't need the extra heat a scandal like this would cause.

He booked the room anyway. He couldn't let go of the night they had spent together. How easy Emrys had been to play with, how responsive and sharp he was. There was something aching in Arthur's chest. He wanted to unravel Emrys and see him let go. He wanted to sink into him for a good long time and watch the fog roll over those stunning blue eyes.

So he reacted poorly when he entered room seven and was suddenly crowded by a larger man. Arthur didn't startle easily, but he wasn't prepared to be slammed up against the hotel room door by his shoulders. It shut with a snap, and he grunted at the forearm bracing his chest. He had just enough time to catch the black eyed gaze in front of his own before the man kissed him.

His tongue was a hot mess in Arthur's mouth, and his hands were pulling Arthur's coat open roughly now. He couldn't think, and he couldn't get free entirely - this man, he was definitely more like the escorts on the landing page of Excalibur's website - massive, all muscle, and a brute.

Arthur slugged him.

They both reeled from the blow. Arthur drew back, in case he needed to hit the man again, but he just ran a hand across his mouth and took a step back.

"You want to take it to a place like that," the man said. "It will cost you."

Arthur sneered. Ran his fingers through his hair.

"This isn't what I asked for. I need to make a phone call."

"You cancelling on me?" The man straightened. He didn't look angry, which relieved Arthur to a point. But now they were both confused and the awkwardness was setting in.

"Yes," Arthur said formally. "Sorry to waste your time."

"It's Valiant, and..." he said, approaching slowly. Arthur had to fight not to lean back into the door as Valiant drew in closer. "You didn't."

Valiant gave him a fierce, predatory grin, and kissed him hard, his fingers gripping Arthur's chin to the point of pain. And then he left, slapping Arthur's cheek lightly as he went and Arthur was so stunned that he didn't move for a full minute after the door had closed behind the powerful man. He stared at the windows, tracking the lights over the water until finally, he remembered how to breathe, and crossed the room to the desk to pick up the phone.

It was Gwen who answered, bless her. Arthur was appalled by the softness of his own voice when he finally managed to answer her.

"Gwen, I apologize there seems to have been a mistake regarding my appointment tonight."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," she said and sounded like she might even mean it. His heart was still rattling in his chest. He had the urge, suddenly, to put something through one of the beautiful bay windows on the other side of the room. The desk, perhaps. But his fist would do. Gwen's voice brought him back with a gentleness he was not accustomed to.

"I see you booked room number seven, with Valiant."

It wasn't a question, but Arthur rapidly needed this whole night to be over. He considered just cancelling and being done with it, then closed his eyes.

"I expected to see Emrys again," he answered, feeling foolish. His collar was burning with the effort of getting the words out.

There was a pause, keys clicked then stopped.

"I'm so sorry for the mix up," Gwen said at last. "When your room was booked, there were no other requests."

Arthur let a weak breath out if his nose.

"That was my fault, I'm happy to pay for the evening but if you could explain to me how I messed this up so badly, I would be..."

He trailed off, feeling hot and too formal.

"Certainly," Gwen said softly, seeming to understand. "The rooms are managed by calendar availability. Valiant is the available escort for room seven, today."

"I see," he breathed out. Ran a hand over his face.

"What I can do," Gwen said, taking charge. It relieved him. "Is add a preference to your profile for a specific escort so you will not need to enter the information yourself. When you book for available nights simply request the service you would like to purchase and leave off the room request. We will take care of where and based on your preferences, with whom."

"Is it possible to book a standing reservation?" He asked impulsively.

"Of course. This will be contingent on both parties availability."

"What kind of availability am I working with?"

He could hear the smile in Gwen's response.

"You would like to book a standing reservation with Emrys?"

He was glad she hadn't made him say it himself. He must be completely insane to even consider something like this. They'd only spent the one night together, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Yes," he said softly, lowering his head a fraction. He touched his mouth reflexively and had the urge to spit. Valiant. _Damn him._

"Emrys has availability for Thursday and Saturday evenings. Thursday for full nights and Saturdays for half."

"Make it Thursday then," he heard himself saying.

"Very well, I will have this settled for you in a few moments. While I finalize this, would you like me to call Emrys to your room to finish your evening?"

Arthur's head came up so fast he almost dropped the receiver.

"He's available?"

"Yes, sir."

Arthur closed his eyes, took a moment to collect himself.

"Thank you Gwen, how long?"

"Thirty minutes, Mr. Pendragon. We will comp this evening in light of the mixup."

Arthur struggled with that. He didn't know how the exchange worked, but he was a businessman. If he took the night for free someone wasn't getting paid for the services he was asking for. The question was, would it be Valiant, with whom he was technically booked, or Emrys who would be coming to meet him?

He certainly didn't want to pay Valiant a single cent for that display. He was aware that his hands were shaking a little.

"Thank you, Gwen," he said at last, thinking of his billfold. He would pay Emrys in cash. "You've been very helpful."

"It's my pleasure Mr. Pendragon. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you."

"Enjoy your evening, Sir."

Arthur was not aware of the time that had passed until the door behind him clicked open and slid shut. He was still standing by the desk, his hands shaking. He couldn't seem to get them to stop. Then, suddenly those glacial blue eyes were filling his, and he felt his shoulders release a fraction.

Emrys was looking at him, his brows pulled tight in a frown. It took Arthur a moment to realize that he was in a beanie, his flannel coat open to reveal a Ramones t-shirt that looked well worn, and a pair of tight, faded jeans. Arthur focused on him, feeling solid and real for the first time since he had stepped into the room this evening.

"Your hair is wet," he said absently and reached out to brush some of it from Emrys's forehead where it peeked out from beneath his hat.

Black eyebrows lifted, and he dropped the backpack he was carrying on one shoulder. The impact of it startled Arthur. Emrys reached up, cupped Arthur's face between his long hands.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Arthur huffed, tried to say that he was, and to his horror, found that his face was twisting instead. He pulled in a breath. Tried for a second and failed.

"Hey," Emrys murmured, pulling him backwards toward the bed. "Hey, did something happen? Are you okay?"

He was so blunt, that Arthur started to laugh despite the tightness in his chest. He let himself be guided to the bed, took a seat. Emrys only let go of his face to sink to his knees at Arthur's feet, his palms a comforting weight on Arthur's thighs.

"I'm fine," Arthur said finally. Massaged his eyes with one hand. "I'm fine."

Emrys peered up at him, still frowning, his thumbs massaging the insides of Arthur's knees.

"You're not breathing," he said suddenly. Arthur pulled in a breath, aware of the pressure in his skull.

"You keep holding your breath," Emrys continued, moving his hands to cover the tops of Arthur's thighs. "Your hands are shaking."

Arthur stared at Emrys, unable to respond. He concentrated on the blue eyes, the warmth of his palms through his trousers. Without making any conscious decision, Arthur found himself speaking.

"Valiant was here," he said. He felt ridiculous.

Emrys scowled.

"Did he touch you?"

Arthur was startled by the low, possessiveness in Emrys's tone. The way his hands went very still on Arthur's thighs.

Arthur blew out a breath, felt himself matching Emrys's stillness and the cadence of his breathing. The world started to refocus.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "Thank you."

Emrys's gaze sharpened, became positively incendiary, and then he closed them, bowing his head between his shoulders with terse nod.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with him," he stood, and Arthur had to crane his neck to look up at him. He blinked, aware that the motion was slower than it should have been. Emrys still looked concerned, sinking a little into his hips.

"Don't do that," Arthur said softly, not meaning to. He reached out, took Emrys's hips in his palms and tugged him forward a step.

Emrys raised his eyebrows, his hands falling to Arthur's forearms.

"Do what?"

"Slouch," Arthur said. "Stand up straight."

The command snapped in the air between them, and Arthur slid his hand up the back of Emrys's shirt, his other bracing his hip. Emrys sucked in a breath, muttered something that could have conceivably been _Jesus_ and widened his stance, pulling himself up and straightening his shoulders.

"Better," Arthur breathed. But he still felt a little off balance. He had the urge to lay down and just hold Emrys. Maybe sleep a little.

Arthur stood, looked Emrys over. And to his surprise, those long hands came up to brace his head again, and Emrys kissed him. It was deep and hard and possessive, Emrys stepped into him, pressing their hips together, and Arthur found the anchor he needed in the press of that kiss. He took hold of the back of Emrys's neck and pinched, making Emrys moan into Arthur's teeth. The kiss turned urgent and feral until they broke apart, both of them panting.

"What time is it?" Arthur demanded, a little breathless. Emrys glanced over his shoulder.

"A quarter past eight," he sucked in a deep breath, reached up and slid his beanie off his head in one motion. Ruffled his hair. "Don't worry about the time, Gwen told me she comped you the night. You can stay as long as you want."

Arthur looked Emrys over, really looked, felt his shoulders finally relax. His hands had stopped shaking. But a frown was forming, he could feel it pull in his brows as he took in the well worn clothing, the scuffed trainers.

"Did I...were you working tonight?" He asked uncertainly.

Emrys looked at the door, rubbed the back of his head. Hair wet from a hurried shower, Arthur realized with a pang of guilt.

"Not here," he said carefully. Arthur opened his mouth, began to protest. He had been under the impression Emrys was in the hotel tonight. He hadn't meant to cost him an evening he hadn't been working for.

"You didn't have to come here, if you were working somewhere else. I don't..."

Don't what? Arthur was uncertain what to do with the sudden intimacy he felt for this man. Emrys waited for him to finish, the beanie held loosely in one fist.

"Will you get in trouble?" Arthur said finally. "For leaving to come here?"

Emrys studied him for a long time before answering, as if he didn't quite comprehend the question. Slowly, he shook his head.

"No. I'll be fine."

Arthur let out a breath and looked around the room, tried to reorder the evening in his head.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble," he said finally, running his hand over his mouth. "This wasn't exactly how I had planned for this night to go."

Emrys shrugged, turned back to pick up his bag. For one frozen moment, Arthur thought he was planning to leave. The thought speared him through the chest.

Emrys picked it up and headed to the table under the window, setting it down, tossing the beanie after it and beginning to shrug out of his flannel coat.

"I'm here now," he said. "We can do whatever you want."

The world slid back into motion at the words. Arthur closed his eyes, and then sharply,

"Stop."

Emrys froze, his arms behind him, half pulled from his coat. He turned to glance at Arthur, his gaze searching.

"Put it back on," Arthur said. His tone hard and unyielding.

Slowly, Emrys did as he was told, turning back to face the table.

"Color?" Arthur said quietly. They hadn't done anything to warrant a check-in, really. But he wanted to start, to put away the rest of the evening and just be with Emrys for a while. So he had to make sure that Emrys didn't take his command the wrong way. Didn't think he was rejecting him.

Immediately Emrys relaxed at the words. He lowered his chin a little. Spoke quietly when he answered.

"Green, sir."

The words worked their way into Arthur's bones, heat pooling into the spaces between.

"Come here, Emrys."

He did as he was told, until he stood in front of Arthur, remembering to straighten his back. It made him fidget a little, but the fact that he was trying not to slouch made Arthur half-hard right then and there.

"You listen so well for me," he whispered. A flush was rising to the pale cheeks, a dreamy smile lifted the corners of Emrys's full mouth.

"Don't move unless you are directed to move, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Arthur took his time to wander a circle around Emrys, who had folded his lips against his teeth, bit the lower one in an effort not to fidget.

Arthur stepped up to him from behind. Removed Emrys's coat and slid it off of his shoulders. It was a heavy garment, but it had been heavier once before. The fleece lining was thinning and torn in some places, there were two buttons missing. One from the left front pocket, the other from the right cuff. He let his knuckles glide over Emrys's arms as he pulled it off, sending goosebumps up the pale flesh.

He handed the jacket to Emrys from behind him.

"Fold it," he told him. Emrys took the coat and shook it out uncertainly. When he began to attempt to line up the sleeves, Arthur reached around him again, running his fingers along the exposed flesh just above the waistband of his jeans. Scratching lightly. Emrys jumped, his full lips parting in surprise as Arthur began unbuckling the black belt.

"If I have to wait to hand you something, Emrys," Arthur murmured sweetly. "You'll regret it."

Emrys swallowed a moan, folding up the coat with unsteady hands. Arthur unzipped the faded jeans from behind and pushed them low on Emrys's hips. He pulled the belt free and as he handed it to Emrys, he received the folded coat. Arthur set it down on the floor with an approving smile. His hands sliding up under Emrys's shirt, he kissed the back of the bent neck. Smiled at the shudder he received in response.

"Good," he said. "Very good."

He felt the skin under his hands warm at the words. Gave himself a moment just to touch Emrys. When he was handed the belt coiled into a spiral, he dropped it on the coat, keeping one of Emrys's sharp hip bones cradled in his hand as he did.

"Shoes," he commanded, letting Emrys lean back into his chest a little as he toed them off.

Emrys let out a strangled moan when Arthur pulled his shirt off dragging his nails over his hardened nipples as he did. He teased them gently while he nipped at Emrys's shoulders, pressing his lips to every inch of skin he wanted to. He bit down harder than he had meant to on the curve between Emrys's shoulder and his neck, and the shirt which he had been folding tumbled from his fingers. He caught it before it hit the floor, but not before he let out a small whine. Arthur sucked on the mark he made, speaking between kisses.

"That was good, Emrys," he said quietly. "Keep folding it."

Emrys shuddered, holding the shirt out in front of him one more time to line up the sleeves. Arthur bit him on the other shoulder, his hands sliding into the back of Emrys's pants, pushing them off his hips slowly.

It took him three attempts to fold the shirt correctly, and was only saved from any punishment because his pants were too tight for Arthur to simply drop them to the floor. He handed Arthur the folded shirt in shaking hands, just as Arthur handed him his jeans and lowered himself to his knees.

He ran his thumbs along the teeth marks he had left along the outside and the backs of Emrys's thighs. Some of them would certainly bruise. Traced them lightly with his fingers, one in particular that had made Emrys clutch the unfolded jeans to his chest, bending at the waist a fraction with strained shout. His thighs were still trembling.

"Socks," he said when Emrys handed him the folded jeans.

Emrys let out a breath through his nose when Arthur held him by the hips as he lifted first one foot and then the other. Arthur felt warmth pooling in his abdomen when Emrys spoke.

"Thank you," he said.

His voice was barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the silence between them. Arthur smiled against his skin, sucking bruises into the backs of his shoulders, his neck. Making Emrys moan softly.

When he handed Arthur the rolled up socks, Arthur turned him around. Emrys looked at the space between them, his cheeks flushed. Pupils already blown so wide his eyes looked three shades darker. Arthur kissed him.

Without thinking, Emrys started to wrap his arms around Arthur's neck. Opened his mouth to Arthur just as the blonde pulled back from him. He had his hands on Emrys's upper arms, preventing him from closing the distance between himself and Arthur's mouth.

Emrys froze, realizing his mistake instantly. Arthur didn't miss the strain in his boxers at the immediate prospect of punishment.

"What were your instructions, Emrys?" He said quietly.

Emrys tried to pull his arms back down, but Arthur tightened his grip in the soft flesh, making Emrys cry out. Moan.

"Don't move unless you're directed to move," he said breathlessly, a little dazed. "Do you understand?"

"You're so good when you want to be, Emrys," Arthur chided. "So I know you can do it."

Emrys made an apologetic noise, his arms still tense in Arthur's hands. Arthur let out a sigh. It made Emrys immediately penitent.

"I'm sorry," he said even as Arthur let go of his arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Shut up, Emrys."

He did.

Arthur let him stand alone by the bed as he selected a few objects from the cabinet. When he returned, Emrys was holding onto his biceps, his head lowered, waiting. Arthur set the objects down on the bed, before he cupped the bare shoulders in his hands slid them down to cover Emrys's fingers, and back up again. Cold.

Arthur wrapped a hand around the back of Emrys's neck. Pulled him down against his body his free hand running along his exquisite spine. Emrys made a sound in gratitude at the shared warmth between them, pressed his face into Arthur's neck.

"How are you always so cold?" Arthur mused. "I left you for two minutes."

Emrys huffed into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, sir," and Arthur could feel the smile against his neck when Emrys said it.

"Stand up," Arthur said after a moment. "Arms at your sides."

He did as he was told, if a little reluctantly. Arthur looked him over.

"You're not very good at staying still when you're told, are you Emrys?"

"No, sir."

He said it demurely, his gaze dropped to the floor between them. Arthur smirked.

"Frankly Emrys, you're not much good at doing anything I tell you to do when I tell you to do it."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You don't sound sorry."

Those blue eyes met his momentarily, widening a little in alarm.

"I-"

Arthur cut him off, walking around him. Snapping the waistband of his boxers and making him jump.

"You said it yourself the last time we played, didn't you Emrys? You weren't sorry."

Emrys choked on a moan, his hands balling into fists. Arthur took him by the back of the neck. Shook him a little.

"Didn't you?"

"Yes!" Emrys gasped. "I-I did."

"Are you ever sorry when you do something wrong, Emrys?"

"Yes!" He moaned. "I am, I'm sorry, please don't-"

"Don't?" Arthur snapped incredulously. He forced Emrys over the edge of the bed by his neck, pressing his shoulders down into the mattress.

"Hands by your head, I want them where I can see them," Arthur snapped. Emrys did as he was told, his eyes closing as Arthur continued.

"Don't what?" He murmured, pulling Emrys away from the bed by his hips. "You don't think you should be punished for doing something wrong?"

Emrys whimpered, his fingers tightening in the folds of the blankets.

"Answer me, Emrys or you'll make it worse."

Arthur straightened Emrys's long legs as he spoke, brushing the sensitive skin inside his thighs, behind his knees. The first time he slapped him, making the skin redden under his palm, Emrys had to stifle a shout into the bed. He alternated between grazing Emrys's sensitive skin and slapping him hard, and didn't stop until Emrys's legs were shaking, and he was panting into the mattress.

"Well?"

"I..." he hesitated, and Arthur waited, because the tension had come back to those pale shoulders and he recognized the genuine stutter in Emrys's composure.

"I'm sorry, sir" he whispered. "I don't remember the question."

Arthur allowed himself a smile at that. All he had effectively done to him was touch him, threaten to punish him. And already he was fast approaching the edge of a cliff. Arthur felt himself warming all the way down to his toes in anticipation.

"I won't repeat myself again, Emrys, do you understand?" He snapped.

"Yes, sir."

"I asked you if you believed that you shouldn't be punished when you do something wrong?"

A whimper, fists clenching in the blankets.

"No, sir."

"No you don't think that? Or no, you do?"

"I'm sorry," he whined. "When you kissed me I-"

"Oh," Arthur cut him off, dangerously. Rising from his haunches. "So it's my fault you couldn't follow a simple direction?"

Those glacial blue eyes flew open. Horrified.

"No! No that's not what I-"

"Shut up, Emrys."

"Please, I didn't mean..."

Emrys gasped out a cry when Arthur suddenly leaned over him, wrenching his head back by his hair.

"What did I say?"

"Shut up," Emrys replied pitifully.

"No more talking, Emrys," Arthur said letting his head drop back to the bed. "Unless you need to use your safeword."

Another pitiful sound escaped him as Arthur slid his hands over the lithe waist. Began removing his boxers.

"If you're going to whine about it, I'm not going to let you make any noise whatsoever when I fuck you."

Emrys went very still then under his hands, and Arthur, placing a hand on the small of his back, sensed the change.

"Color?" He asked.

"Green," came the tiny breathless reply.

Arthur felt a slow smile stretch his mouth as he continued working Emrys out of his boxers.

"Do you like that idea, Emrys?" He asked. "Being told to stay quiet?"

Hands fisted in the blankets again, but there was no response. Arthur stood when Emrys's boxers were kicked to the side, reaching for a bottle of lube. Emrys actually jumped when he popped the cap, the sound crackling in the air between them.

"I don't know," he mused nonchalantly. "You're very vocal."

To prove the point, he slipped the tip of his finger inside Emrys without preamble. He stuttered on a wail, trying to tamp it down and failing. Arthur pressed in further, sliding in and out at a leisurely pace.

"You see?" He said. "Much too difficult for you."

Emrys glared at him over his shoulder, his bangs already damp with sweat. Arthur smiled at him and added a second finger. Emrys pressed his forehead into the mattress, quiet. He huffed out a breath when Arthur added the third, but didn't make any noise. Frankly Arthur was impressed. He had been testing Emrys, but the truth was he really hadn't thought he could be silent through something like this.

"You're full of surprises, Emrys," he said quietly. He crooked his fingers as he spoke, searching. Emrys flushed at the words, a pleased smile touching his eyes. He had that dreamy look to him now, that almost gone look that happens before bliss takes hold. Arthur had seen him get to this place, had seen him drop a fraction even. But he wanted, needed to get him to let go.

He twisted his wrist, dragging his fingers and Emrys jerked, his ribcage locking up in an effort not to make any noise. There it was. The second time he hit that spot, Emrys hissed out a breath through his teeth. The third time, he jerked his knee so hard he slammed it into the bed frame, and although he was twisting the blankets into a mess in his fists, he didn't make any noise. Arthur stilled his hand, leaned over and kissed his way down Emrys's spine, giving him an opportunity to release some of the tension he had built up in his silence. Arthur was so pleased, he almost considered going easier on him.

Almost.

"Color?" He whispered against sweat damp skin.

"Green," Emrys sobbed, his voice tremulous. "Green."

"You're so good for me," Arthur told him, removing his hand slowly. "Look at you, you have no idea how good you're being. How good that makes me feel."

Emrys breathed out slowly into the mattress, and Arthur became aware of the hitch in the rhythm between his shoulder blades too late to recognize it for what it was. He was crying.

For someone who didn't like for people to see him cry, he did it an awful lot, Arthur thought. And it confused him. He ran his hands down the heaving sides, felt tight muscle jumping against his palms.

"Relax," Arthur murmured. "You can make all the noise you want, you did so well for me."

Emrys shook his head, forehead still pressed into the mattress. Arthur grinned, lifted his gaze to the ceiling before dropping back down to the pale back under his hands.

"Have it your way. Color?"

"Green." It was a wet response, but he sounded steady enough. He wondered if Emrys would talk to him about his bouts of crying during their scenes. He wasn't quite sure whether it was good for Emrys or not. It seemed fine. But he needed to understand it better so that he didn't have to continue tiptoeing around the issue. Maybe they could use it.

He filed that thought away and picked up the next item he had brought from the cabinet. Held it in front of Emrys's nose. The black haired beauty was still face down in the comforter trying to get his breathing under control.

"One more time, love." He said. "Color?"

"For fuck's...sake..." Emrys snarled, the growl dying in his throat when he came face to face with object dangling in front of his nose.

Arthur leaned in, his voice deadly calm.

"What was that?" He hissed in Emrys's ear.

"...g-green." Emrys swallowed.

"You need a lesson in patience," Arthur continued. "This is all you'll get for now. If you come before I tell you to, I will leave it on for the rest of the night, do you understand?"

"Y-yes. Yes sir," Emrys whispered, his gaze tracking Arthur as he positioned the plug and began to work it inside. Emrys groaned, pressing back against Arthur's hand. His head dropping back to the mattress.

"Sir?" He whispered. Arthur raised an eyebrow, checked for any distress. He kept his tone flat and formal, when he saw none.

"This had better be good, Emrys," he warned. "I told you not to speak unless you wanted to use your safeword."

Emrys let out a whine as Arthur continued to work the plug inside. It was a heavier, vibrating model but the center of it was fairly wide. Unconsciously he massaged the small of Emrys's back as he continued. Urging him to relax.

"I...I just," he moaned as the plug finally passed the tight ring of muscle, and Arthur pressed it in until it was fully seated.

"You just?" Arthur prompted, placing his hands on the thin hips to still them.

"I've never...I'm not good at that," he admitted, and he sounded genuinely sorry. A little embarrassed. Arthur tilted his head.

"You'll have to be more specific, Emrys," he quipped. "You're not good at very much now are you?"

Emrys glared at him over his shoulder, and Arthur sobered, his face gentling. Felt the seriousness of Emrys's humiliation and had no desire to make him feel like he was the butt of a joke. Reflexively he thought to himself that humiliation kinks should be on his limits list. They weren't. But he had clear emotional reactions to embarrassment, and none of them included arousal.

"What are you worried about, Emrys?" He asked in a less condescending tone. Emrys's shoulders dropped back toward the mattress a fraction.

"I've...I've never really been able to...I don't know how to stop, before I..." he huffed. Tried again. "I want to do what you're asking, I want to but..."

"You don't think you can?"

Emrys looked up at him, grateful, then back to the bed.

"No."

"Okay," Arthur murmured soothingly. Running his hands over the tense shoulders, smoothing out the tight muscles. "Thank you for telling me, I'm really glad you did. That was so good Emrys. Thank you."

Emrys murmured a pleased sound in the back of his throat as Arthur ran a hand through his black curls, urging him to lay back down.

"You still need to learn your lesson, Emrys, I haven't forgiven you just yet."

Another whine. Arthur began to adjust the plug inside Emrys, making the other man jump a little.

"But because you were so good for telling me, I'm going to help you."

Emrys gasped when Arthur moved the plug then, jerked forward momentarily onto his toes. Arthur smirked. Pulled his hips back so that the plug sat on that, exact spot.

Emrys's eyes came open when he felt it. His breathing beginning to back up on him.

"No," he hissed. "I can't."

"What have I told you?" Arthur asked him, not really expecting a response. He'd said it in the heat of the moment, when Emrys was dropping, weeks ago. But as he opened his mouth to finish, Emrys finished for him.

"You can," he moaned, lowering his head between his shoulders. "You can, because I say you can."

Arthur had never been so hard in his life. He took a moment to get his breathing under control.

"You're perfect," he said. "Jesus, Emrys."

Emrys shuddered. Preening visibly at the compliment. Arthur had to shake himself to not just take Emrys right then and there, punishment be damned.

"No talking," he said, his voice hoarse. "Unless it's to use your safeword. When you're close you will tell me. And if you're good for me, I might let you come tonight."

Emrys's sobbed into the bed. He was already absolutely straining. This was going to be an interesting experiment.

Arthur picked up the remote for the vibrator. Flicked it up to the first setting.

Emrys startled, writhing a little to get himself under control. Arthur put a hand on his back. Pressed him down.

"Breathe."

Emrys did.

He fell back into place on the bed. Shaking all over with the effort not to speak. To not make any noise at all. Arthur turned it up a setting. Emrys opened his mouth in a silent wail into the bedclothes. Arthur was sure he heard the comforter tear in those beautiful hands. Just as Arthur was about to turn it up again, Emrys choked, sitting up on his elbows and hissed.

"I'm close," he gasped. "I'm-!"

Arthur shut off the vibrator. Let Emrys sag against the bed, his breathing a little wet. He was on the verge of tears again.

Arthur didn't touch him just yet. Emrys was sensitive by nature and this close he wasn't sure if there was anywhere he could touch him that wouldn't make him come on the spot. Arthur wanted to give him every opportunity to succeed.

He waited for Emrys's breathing to even out, and then turned it up to the third setting. Emrys couldn't quite stop the strangled cry that crossed his lips. But he muted it. He shook, his hands clawing at the comforter.

"There are eight settings to this thing," Arthur told him conversationally. Emrys bucked involuntarily toward the bed. Twisting his shoulders and pressing his forehead into the mattress. Arthur turned it up to four.

"We're going to go through all of them before you're done."

Emrys gasped, his chest heaving. He bent his knees a little, trying to twist his hips away when he jolted up onto his hands suddenly, his back arching, his neck flush to his chin. Spots of color burned into his chest.

"Close!" He shouted. Arthur shut it off.

Emrys sobbed, sinking to his knees, his hands sliding down the length of the bed.

He sat on his heels, his whole body trembling and cried harder when Arthur reached for him, running his hands through his hair.

"Halfway there," he said. "Then all is forgiven."

Emrys nodded. His shoulders lifting unsteadily as he reached for the bed. Arthur helped him back up to position. Checked his knees, his hips, the plug. Then he turned it up to five.

Emrys slapped the comforter, his teeth pressed into the fabric in a silent scream. Arthur waited a shorter interval this time, before turning it up to six. Almost immediately Emrys was shouting.

"Close! Close!"

Arthur barely got the thing off in time. He could tell because of the way Emrys was so still, he was barely breathing. When he finally let out his breath, it came out with a high, anxious noise behind it. Keening and frustrated.

"Two more," Arthur said.

"Yellow," Emrys breathed into the bedspread, and the world slowed to a fraction of a second for Arthur, before speeding up in high definition technicolor.

"Okay," Arthur said, feeling shaken. "Okay, just let me..."

"No," Emrys replied quietly. "No, leave it in. I just need a moment. I just..."

Arthur took Emrys around the chest, bodily lifted him from the bed back down to his knees on the floor. Emrys groaned, limp in Arthur's arms.

"I'm sorry," he said. Arthur was busy opening a bottle of water, letting Emrys brace his shaking body with Arthur's chest.

"For what?"

"For ruining it," he said quietly. "I'll understand if you don't want to finish."

Arthur paused with the water bottle, stared at the back of Emrys's sweat damp neck.

"You didn't ruin anything," he said. "That's what safe words are for, Emrys. That's why I ask."

Emrys accepted the bottle of water, tipped it unsteadily to his lips. Arthur helped him with the second swallow, steadying Emrys's elbow, running his other hand through the black curls.

"What happened?" Arthur asked when he was finished. "What are you feeling?"

"I can't do both," Emrys hissed immediately. He was still incredibly worked up and had to clench his hands on his thighs to keep from canting his hips any. "I tried." He added weakly. "I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams. Like I'm trapped."

"Both?" Arthur clarified.

"Let me speak," Emrys said. "Let me speak and I can do this for you, I know I can."

Arthur felt his chest swell with admiration, pride. Something else akin to joy. He nuzzled the back of Emrys's neck, pressed him against his chest so that he could hold him.

"Thank you," he whispered into Emrys's ear. "Thank you for telling me. That was perfect, Emrys. I'm so proud of you."

Emrys swallowed hard. Reached up with one hand to tentatively return the embrace, gripping Arthur's arm.

Arthur kissed the back of his neck, and then helped him to stand back by the bed, chest down on the comforter.

"You have permission to speak freely, Emrys," he said. "Don't come until your told. Tell me when you're close. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

His voice had a determined edge to it that made Arthur want kiss him.

"Color?" He said.

"Green."

Arthur turned it back on at six.

To his surprise, Emrys didn't shout or use his new found permission to speak immediately. He twisted his head against the bed, eyes closed as if waiting. The flush against his collarbone, his neck, was turning crimson. Arthur turned it up to seven.

Emrys snapped out a curse, and then, inexplicably began to rattle off something about...math? Arthur came down on the balls of his feet by the edge of the bed where Emrys's head was resting. He had his eyes squeezed shut. He wasn't just rambling about math. He was doing math. Complicated math problems and walking himself through the steps. Arthur stared in amazement as Emrys continued, sucking in sharp breaths between long stretches of calculations. He stared for so long that he forgot to turn the vibrator up to the last setting.

"Close!" Emrys keened. "Fuck!"

Arthur fumbled the vibrator off. Reached out and ran a hand through the black curls.

"Amazing," Arthur breathed, and meant it. "One more. Then you're done."

Emrys nodded. He had a dreamy look on his face when Arthur stood and walked back around to the other side of the bed. He waited a moment for the tremors in Emrys's hips to lose some of their sharpness. Then he turned the vibrator up to eight.

Immediately Emrys was crying out for his permission.

"Jesus fuck, I can't! Sir, please, let me come! I want to wait...I can't...!" His knees were starting to buckle. Arthur stepped up behind him. Waited a second longer.

"I'm sorry!" Emrys screamed. "I'm so sorry it won't happen again I swear, please! I'm close! Please!"

Arthur took him in hand, tossing the remote on the bed. He stroked Emrys hard and fast, panting into his skin.

"You can come Emrys," he hissed, thrusting his aching hips against Emrys's backside as he stripped him with his fist. "Come for me."

Emrys screamed, the sound cascading around the room, pressing out every other possible noise. His spine locked, his fingers blanched white on the bedspread. Arthur stroked him through the climax. It was hard and long and left Emrys mewling in the aftermath. Arthur was careful to turn off the plug after he'd started coming, but he continued to stroke him until Emrys's knees buckled and he came down to the soft carpet so suddenly that it nearly knocked Arthur off his feet in the process.

To his utter shock, Emrys grabbed him by the belt, shoving him expertly against the bed, so that his feet were bracketed by Emrys's shaking knees. He clawed at Arthur's straining trousers, his eyes blown and glassy.

"Off," he snapped. "Get these off."

Arthur was so stunned he complied immediately, unbuttoning his pants with two quick motions. Emrys pulled them down, barely waiting for his boxers to hit his knees before taking him in his mouth. He let out a guttural moan as Emrys took him, the wet heat of him an immediate balm for the ache he had been subjecting himself to all night. He cursed, threading his fingers through Emrys's hair, and let out a strained cry of relief when Emrys encouraged him to move. He had a rough appetite, Arthur, and he had always been careful not to take it out on his partners in this particular form of intimacy. But Emrys pressed him closer, hummed and keened against his hard flesh until he bucked into his throat and Emrys groaned, taking him further, until Arthur felt the searing knot in his belly beginning to unravel. He matched Emrys's pace, chasing the feeling until finally he felt his back bow to Emrys's mouth, and he came with a name on his lips for the first time since he was at Uni.

Emrys swallowed around him once and then pulled off as Arthur spent himself over the both of them. Arthur was barely aware of anything but the white light that had blinded him from behind his eyelids. The soaring sensation of free fall. He collapsed back on the bed, panting, one arm thrown over he eyes.

He felt the soft weight of Emrys flopping down next to him on the bed and then a brief pause before Emrys rattled off a quiet, cheeky question.

"Color, sir?"

Arthur peered at him from beneath his arm. Emrys was grinning, his eyes still blown and glassy.

Arthur hit him with a pillow.

When they were settled in bed, and both of them showered and Emrys finally warm again, Arthur murmured into the damp black curls.

"What kind of math was that?"

Emrys started, blinked himself awake.

"What?"

"Earlier, after you asked me to let you speak. You started a math problem. What was it?"

Emrys frowned, thought back.

Arthur knew it was familiar to him. Something about the cadence of Emrys's formula struck a chord but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. At the same time, he knew it was much too complicated for him. So it couldn't be something he'd heard recently. Maybe during his years at Uni?

"Dunno," he shrugged, his accent back in full force. It made his voice deeper, more resonant. "Random numbers applied to the Black-Scholes model?"

Arthur came up on his elbow, staring down at the bruised shoulders of the man in bed with him.

"Are you a CFA?" He asked, startled. Emrys laughed.

"No, no. I work here, obviously."

"You said you had another job."

"No I didn't," he countered.

"Implied it then."

"Not in finance," Emrys snorted. "Why?"

He turned to look at Arthur over his shoulders, eyebrows lifted.

"Emrys, you weren't doing that calculation off of round whole numbers," he said. "The numbers you were using were realistic, some of them involved decimal points."

Emrys huffed, dropped back to the pillow.

Arthur just stared at him.

"Emrys," he tugged at his shoulder, turned him over to face him. Emrys didn't oblige, kept his face turned away, a frown starting to deepen the creases between his brows.

"Emrys," Arthur started again, gripping his shoulder in his palm. "That model isn't an easy problem to work through with a calculator. You just rattled it off like it was nothing, while you..." he stopped abruptly and Emrys gave a brief, bitter smile.

"While you were punishing me, sir?"

Arthur felt his cheeks heat up. He hadn't been as vulgar as he could have been but it still smarted.

"I'm being serious, Emrys that was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen."

Glacial blue eyes finally turned to look at him, searched his own for any trace of mockery. Arthur waited, his gaze steady.

"Thanks," Emrys breathed, still sounding frustrated. He turned over again, his back to Arthur. "Maybe I'll do it again for you sometime. Like a trick pony."

Arthur wasn't sure what to say to that. Emrys sounded genuinely annoyed and he couldn't fathom why. He thought he should address it. But he couldn't bring himself to just then. Instead he gave him a haughty reply, falling back on the pillows as he did.

"Well you'll get your chance. I've booked a standing reservation with you for Thursdays."

Emrys came up off the pillow so suddenly Arthur was too startled to move out of the way. Got an elbow in the face for his trouble.

"Jesus!"

Emrys flailed. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

Arthur had a hand over his nose, his voice muffled.

"I'm dying," he said flatly. "Get off, please."

Emrys scrambled back, sitting up, both hands cupped over his mouth and nose in horror. He looked so genuinely upset, that after Arthur checked to see if there was any blood (there wasn't), he started laughing. Emrys glared at him, his hands dropping.

"Oh my god," Arthur gasped. "Emrys I simply cannot fathom how someone as genuinely perfect as you are, could be such an utter clutz."

Emrys shrugged, his cheeks flushed and grinned.

"Just my charm, I suppose."

Arthur couldn't stop laughing for another full minute.

"Did you really book a standing reservation?" Emrys asked uncertainly, running the sheets through his hands when Arthur had calmed.

The blonde laid back, tucked an arm under his head and watched the lowered chin, Emrys's bony knees poking out from under the sheets.

"Yes," Arthur said finally. "I booked it this evening, for Thursdays."

Those blue eyes glanced up, caught Arthur's for only a moment and darted away. When he spoke again he had to clear his throat and his accent was much less pronounced.

"I'll look forward to it."

Arthur sat up, snared Emrys's chin with thumb and forefinger, and caught his gaze.

"You do an awful lot of hiding from people, don't you, Emrys?"

The blue eyes darkened, and he tilted his head back, pulling free of Arthur without making a scene. Deftly he swung his legs off the bed and and started for his neatly folded clothing on the floor.

"If you're satisfied," he said. "I'll call the desk. They'll send someone up to - "

"What's wrong?"

Arthur was on his feet, but he didn't want to cross the room, knowing that crowding the man would get him nowhere. He stood in his boxers, his hands hanging useless at his sides.

Emrys was stepping into his jeans. Pausing to pull on his socks.

"Nothing's wrong," he said coldly. "I have other appointments tonight. I need to leave."

Arthur felt an immediate rage that he had to stifle before it overtook him. He almost didn't get the words out.

"Bullshit," he hissed, making Emrys look up. "When you came here you said I could stay with you as long as I wanted. You've got no other appointments tonight."

"So you own me now because you pay to fuck me?"

"Jesus fucking christ, Emrys! What the actual fuck is happening?"

"Stop prying into my business!" Emrys roared. "This isn't a relationship you prat, this is a business transaction. You don't get to know why I can do math in my head or what my second job is, or anything else about me!"

He turned, throwing his shoes at the wall. They knocked a hanging photograph down that shattered with a deafening crash as it hit the corner of the desk.

"Fuck!"

Arthur stared, wide-eyed, feeling simultaneously cowed and deeply hurt. He knew this wasn't a relationship. He knew that. Did it make him a monster to want to treat Emrys as something other than a toy?

Before he could muster up some kind of response, there was a knock at the door. Sharply, three times.

"I'm fine!" Emrys roared at the door. "Go away Agravaine. Took your fucking time, as usual."

Arthur felt everything spinning out of control. He hadn't meant for any of this.

"My name is Arthur," he said, cutting off the tirade. His voice sounded raw, even to him. Emrys turned to look at him, his expression shifting between shock, neutral suspicion, wariness.

"Arthur?"

"Yeah," Arthur stopped short of telling him his last name. He couldn't bring himself to say it. "I'm a business owner in London. My half sister is an absolute nightmare and I'm rubbish at math. I always thought..." he trailed off, staring at Emrys and seeing no change in that awful blank stare. "I always thought it would have been nice to be a poet." He finished quietly. Lamely.

Emrys cocked his head to the side. Searched Arthur's expression for any signs of ill intent. Any lies. His expression relaxed a fraction. He rubbed his eyes to smooth it out the rest of the way.

"You don't have to do that," Emrys whispered.

"I want to," Arthur said, making it somehow sound like an order. Emrys looked like he was about to snap at him again. Arthur held up his hands.

"I'm not...I don't want to know anything you don't want to tell me. But, this works better if we know something about each other. I'm just trying to understand - do you know how hard it is for me to make a scene work around a bunch of idiosyncrasies I have no context for? How afraid I am that I'll hurt you?"

He stopped himself abruptly. Turned away. This was getting too far out of his comfort zone. Everything was too much, too fast. He shook himself. Tried to reestablish a sense of order in his thoughts.

"Sorry. I'll call the desk myself Emrys, I want to...get dressed and straighten up before..."

He trailed off with a sigh, his hand gripping the back of his own neck. The other on his hip. Emrys spoke quietly before he could finish, closer than he had been before. Arthur dropped his arms, but didn't turn around. Maybe it would be easier if neither of them looked at each other.

"Why did you come to Excalibur?" Emrys asked.

Arthur dropped his head back. Stared at the ceiling.

"I'll tell you, if you really want to know. But it isn't a simple answer."

"I have nowhere to be," a hint of a teasing smile in his tone. An acknowledgement of their earlier row.

"If I tell you why, will you answer a question for me?"

"Quid pro quo?" Emrys replied, and Arthur was bolstered by the playfulness he heard in his tone. "How very folklore of you. What question?"

Arthur gathered his thoughts, took a moment to run it over in his head one more time before he spoke it out loud.

"You're very emotional, when we play," he said carefully. "Why does that happen? Do you not like what we're doing? Some aspect of it?"

Emrys was quiet for a long time. Then he went to the desk, checked the time and picked up the phone. Arthur closed his eyes. Sank back onto the bed.

"Emrys, I'll do it, there's no need for that."

Emrys shot him a look and then turned to the wall, his expression instantly relaxing when the call connected.

"Hey Gwen, yeah everything's great. My guest was hoping for dinner before he left," he nodded to himself. Tilted the phone from one ear to the next to take hold of the chair and pull his socks off while he listened. "Yeah, perfect. Thank you Gwen."

He clicked the phone off, set it back on the receiver. When he turned, Arthur was staring at him, dumbstruck.

Emrys leaned back against the desk. Crossed his arms over his chest. One of his ankles over the other. Offered a brief shrug.

"If we're going to do this, you may as well buy me dinner first," he said by way of explanation.

Arthur felt a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth, but he could do nothing to stop it.

"That sounds fair."

* * *

Emrys sat cross-legged in his jeans in the middle of the bed, taking small fork-fulls of some alfredo based tortellini off of the plate as he spoke, talking between bites. Arthur worked on his steak slowly, captivated by the sheer unabashed confidence that was Emrys. He talked about preferences, about his likes and dislikes very openly. Seemed unbothered with talking about his sexuality; about sex in general. Arthur was still trying to understand the catalyst for their brief shouting match, but that could wait. Emrys was a force of nature when he got his mind focused on a particular topic. 

"It's not you," Emrys was saying in that dreaded way that made Arthur think of breakups and the smaller hurtful rejections he experienced as a boy, when he realized that most people only liked him for his stuff and not for who he was as a person. He set his fork down in favor of a wine glass and leaned back to sip. He was seated at the plush desk chair, his food laid out in a manner that suggested he was eating in a 5 star restaurant. The food certainly tasted like he was.

Emrys chewed, took a sip from his water glass and continued.

"I've always been that way. I don't cry when I'm sad, honestly. I mean. It's not like it hasn't ever happened, sure, but it isn't what gets me."

Arthur sipped his wine, and offered a murmur of understanding. When they had started talking, Arthur was immediately aware that Emrys needed brief check-ins with conversation partners, like Arthur did when they were playing. It was almost like he needed reassurance that Arthur was still listening. He was happy to oblige. But he wondered if this had to do with the conversation itself or if he was witnessing a brief truth about Emrys's personality. The way he was all the time, and not just in this room with Arthur.

"I cry when I'm..." he paused, chewing. "I cry when I'm proud. Or happy. Really happy, the kind that you only get when you feel triumphant. I cry when I'm frustrated too."

He paused to take another bite of the pasta, so Arthur cut in.

"If you're happy, if it makes you feel good, why don't you want me to see it?"

Emrys looked up at him, chewed for a bit longer than was strictly necessary, sighed and put down his fork.

"I don't like being made fun of," he said simply. "But most of the people who come to me here, that's what they want. They want to make me cry because they get off on hurting someone deeper than any punch or flogger could."

Arthur sat up straight in his chair, his expression turbulent.

"You let people punch you?" He said.

"Why, you want to take a shot?"

The quip held a challenge, those icy eyes hardening across the room.

"No, I don't," Arthur managed. "It's on your hard limits list, that's why I asked."

Emrys's eyebrows lifted to his hairline.

"You remember what's on my hard limits list?"

Arthur stared at him uncomprehending.

"Of course I do," he said. "It was sent to me the first night we played." Emrys leaned back on his hands, appraising Arthur for a moment.

"Are you saying your other partners don't know what's on your limits list?"

"Oh I'm sure some of them do," Emrys shrugged. "The sweet ones who are too scared to do more than boss me around for a while."

"And the others?"

"Just because we send them a list doesn't mean they read it. Most people know what they want and they pay me to have it. That's how this works." He gestured vaguely between the two of them.

Arthur shook his head, set the wine glass down on the desk.

"That's not how this works, Emrys. You aren't being paid to be a punching bag. People pay for your time, not the right to abuse you."

Emrys huffed a laugh and sat up off of his hands.

"What about me?" Arthur asked weakly, unable to stop himself. "Have I ever made you feel like that?"

Emrys stared at him, from under his lashes, seemingly genuinely perplexed. When he did answer he was quiet. Reflective.

"No. No, you haven't. You're pretty great at this actually. I meant it, earlier, when I said I'd be looking forward to this."

That last part, Arthur didn't think he meant to say out loud. He flushed a bit and looked away when he finished. But Arthur didn't want to lose the momentum they had gained. He leaned over, bracing his elbows on his knees.

"Why did you get so angry, when I asked about the math problem you were doing?"

"I told you," Emrys said, chewing on some ice from his glass. "I don't like it when people make fun of me."

"I wasn't," Arthur said, meaning every word. "You were brilliant. I have one of the best finance teams in the country Emrys, and no one who works for me could do what you did."

He tried not to let the words get to him, but even as he said it panic began to spark in his chest. Would he know? Was that too much information along with his first name to remain anonymous? Emrys caught the change in his expression, stared at him like the words meant nothing, and Arthur felt his heart beginning to slow in his chest.

"Maybe you should tell me why you won't just come out and say it?" Emrys asked him. Arthur's anxiety ratcheted up a notch or two. He swallowed, shook his head dumbly.

"Say what?"

"That you think I made up the calculations. How you have a degree in economics or whatever from some ivy league school and you've never even heard of the Black-Scholes Model?"

It took Arthur's brain a second to catch up.

"Wait...what?"

Emrys blew a breath out of his nose and looked away again.

"Hey," Arthur murmured, slid his chair a little closer to the bed. Emrys watched him out of the corner of his eye but didn't turn again to face him. "I do have a degree, one in finance and one in business. I _have_ heard of the Black-Scholes model, and on a good day I might be able to work it out with an entire ream of paper and a calculator without the help of my entire finance team to process it. I don't think you're making it up, Emrys."

Arthur wanted him to believe it. More than that, he wanted to know who had told him to hide his gifts, that they weren't real or not good enough without a degree behind them. But he couldn't. They were already on shaky ground.

After a moment Emrys flopped back on the bed. Laced his fingers over his stomach.

"Your turn," he said, tilting his head so he could see Arthur around his knees. Severing ties with the previous discussion neatly. "Earlier tonight, you dropped. Was that the first time for you?"

Arthur was speechless for a long moment.

"I...what? I didn't drop."

"You did," Emrys said, still looking at him. "When I came in. Top-dropping is a thing. Was that your first time?"

Arthur glowered, scrubbed his hands over his face. It wasn't fair for him to be angry. Emrys was only asking him this to make a point about the kind of crass questions he himself had been asking earlier, without a thought to the emotional turmoil they might cause. He bit back his anger. Forced himself to look at the situation from Emrys's point of view.

"I...no," he admitted quietly. "That wasn't the first time. But it hasn't happened in such a long time, I didn't realize."

Emrys was looking at him again, he could feel it. But he didn't have the courage to look up and face him.

"Gwen implied that you and Valiant," he paused, tried again. "I didn't think you had played at all."

Arthur shook his head.

"We didn't."

"What happened?"

Arthur sighed. "It's nothing. He kissed me, he put his hands on me. I'm not used to people touching me without asking first. Without setting any limits."

He rubbed the back of his neck. Chanced a glance up at Emrys.

"That isn't nothing," Emrys said. "He shouldn't have done that."

He said it like a person might say, 'I'm sorry,' and Arthur felt himself relax.

"Thank you, for coming tonight," he said.

Emrys looked away again. Arthur took a deep breath. Soldiered on, as he had been taught to do.

"When we first played, you told me blindfolds were a hard limit, but they're on your preferences list. Why is that?"

Emrys scowled briefly, then smoothed it away.

"Misprint, seems like," he shrugged. "Gwen will update the list for me."

"Do you mind if I ask why you don't like blindfolds?" Arthur ventured. "You're very sense-forward when we play."

"Sense-forward?" Emrys asked skeptically. Arthur waved a hand.

"You know, tactilely-oriented. For some people it's about the role-play. The power-play. The sex. _You_ want to be touched. You need it. You're most dynamic reactions come from sensation-play."

Emrys stared at him incredulously for so long, Arthur felt like he might have insulted him somehow.

"I'm sorry," he started. "I didn't mean-"

"I've been left like that before," Emrys said flatly. "Tied to a bed. I won't do it again."

Arthur's stomach dropped. He had to work not to show Emrys any pity. Emrys would walk. The challenge in his eyes said he would.

"By a customer?"

"No, actually," he said dismissively. His tone vibrated with heat. "By a boyfriend who couldn't handle my day job. Thought it'd be funny."

Arthur tried to comprehend the kind of person who would do something like that to another person. Risk a life for a laugh. Because if Emrys lived alone, it was possible that he might have waited for days for someone to find him. Arthur had to force himself to unclench his fists. Take a deep breath.

"You haven't answered my first question yet," Emrys cut him off, picking at the remaining food on his plate. "Why did you come to Excalibur?"

Arthur leaned back in the leather desk chair. Stared at the ceiling for a minute. He let the distraction of the question sink in, feeling his fingers relax against his palms. Tried to think of a way to explain himself without just coming out and saying, _I'm Arthur bloody-Pendragon, alright? And maybe I wanted to be just Arthur again for a while._

"I came to Excalibur because I was bored."

Emrys snorted. "Don't be a prat," he said from the bed, crossing one of his long legs over the other. "You don't come to this place if you're bored. No one comes to Excalibur unless they need something. What do you need, Arthur?"

The question cut him, and he had to suck in a breath. Hold it a minute before continuing.

"I wasn't finished," he said quietly on the exhale. Emrys, who looked legitimately contrite, lowered his lashes and waited.

"I really was bored the first time. More than a little drunk. I was out with some..." he stumbled over the word 'friends'. The hesitation made Emrys focus on his face again. "Acquaintances," he amended. "Colleagues. And someone slipped me the card in the club. I checked the QR code. Tried to get rid of it but I couldn't manage to throw it out. I deliberated on it for days. Did my research. I ended up making an appointment to prove to myself that I wasn't lonely. I came back because it hasn't worked yet."

The admission made Emrys sit up to really look at him. Slide off the bed and step up to his chair.

"You mean that," he said softly, running his hands through Arthur's hair. "Don't you?"

Arthur closed his eyes, managed a brief nod. Emrys shifted, straddled Arthur's lap easily as he lowered himself onto the chair.

"I don't make it better for you?" He quirked a pale, cheeky smile. Not exactly making fun. Trying to lighten the mood.

Arthur cradled him closer. Offered him his best, winning smile.

"Sometimes," he said, hoping Emrys wouldn't hear the lie for what it was.

_Everytime._


	3. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin spend their first full Thursday night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are these chapters too long? Does it hold your attention to the end? Does anyone care? xD

When Merlin got back to his tiny flat at four am, he reached into his pocket for his keys and found a neatly folded clip of bills instead. He pulled it out, stared stupidly at the money for nearly thirty seconds before shoving it back in his pocket and fishing out his keys. 

He entered the apartment, flicked on the lights and pulled the clip out of his pocket again. There was a note tucked in with the money, written in a beautiful scrawling hand on Excalibur hotel paper. 

_Please don't be offended. I don't believe anyone should work for free. -Arthur_

Merlin wanted to be angry, but he wasn't sure why. If Arthur had refused to be comped by Gwen, any money he spent on the room would have gone to Valiant. He wasn't sure Arthur knew that, most likely he didn't know for sure, and it made Merlin warm to think that Arthur had thought of him first. But he couldn't deny that his pride was offended. He had come to Arthur because he wanted to. He didn't want his money. 

He opened the clip, expecting a decent tip for his time. His lips parted as he counted the bills, blue eyes widening. Gwen came in from her bedroom as he finished and he looked up at her feeling dazed. 

Gwen raised an eyebrow as she passed, and then paused when she saw what Merlin was holding. 

"What is that?"

"Arthur slipped it in with my things before I left." 

Gwen didn't flinch when he gave his client's first name, but she pointedly kept her gaze down. As a rule they never discussed any client's personal information. Not just because it was a breach of their in house privacy clause at Excalibur, but because it was toxic. All the same, he noted that her reaction was incongruous with the revelation that he'd been given a first name. It had happened before. Infrequently, sure. But Gwen seemed surprised. It made him wonder. 

He passed her the note. Counted the money again to be sure. 

Gwen blinked, watched Merlin counting. Blinked again. 

"Is that...?"

"It's the rate for a full night," Merlin breathed. Five thousand. Of which, Merlin only got a 30% cut usually, after the house and the room share were deducted. Any additionals like meals and damages. He didn't understand. 

Gwen smiled at him. Started grinning. 

"Keep him," she said. Merlin rolled his eyes, the spell broken, and peeled away ten hundreds, before tossing the rest of the money on the counter. 

"Add it to the apartment fund," he said, turning for his room. Gwen made a noise in protest. 

"That money is yours, Merlin. I'm not spending it."

"Think of it as your commission," he said with a smile over his shoulder. "If you hadn't called me tonight I wouldn't have it."

She snorted. 

"You told me to consider you on call if he ever came back."

Merlin ran a hand over his head, then suddenly dropped his arm and cursed. 

"What?" Gwen asked, sitting up from the counter. 

"My beanie," Merlin groaned. "I left it in room seven." 

Arthur wasn't sure if he should take the beanie when he saw it under the table. It must have fallen when Emrys was gathering his things. But now that he knew that room seven wasn't used exclusively by Emrys, he didn't feel right taking the chance on leaving it behind. He closed his fist around it in his pocket as he stepped into the black car that pulled up to meet him at the curb. 

He didn't speak to the driver on the way home. George had been working for the Pendragon family for two generations now, and he wasn't stupid. They wouldn't speak of where Arthur had been and George would find a way to keep him from being socially mutilated for his choices, as he always had. 

The night passed by slowly to Arthur, the lights trailing a little too long in the window glass as they made their way through a series of backroads and alleys to Arthur's house. His father's house. The Pendragon Estate. He thought about Emrys and tried to imagine if he would be angry at him for pressing the money into his pocket at the last second. Would it ruin the little world they inhabited in those rooms at Excalibur, to acknowledge the payments that passed between them? 

_'This isn't a relationship, it's a business transaction!'_

Arthur swallowed thickly. 

This was a mistake. It was unhealthy to fixate like this. To make it part of his routine. But he couldn't remember ever playing so well with another person, how easy it was to read the spaces between the breaths Emrys took. The look in his eyes. Arthur could still feel the sheer need pressing on him, weighing him down. The want for that space where it was just Emrys and him. 

It was Saturday. He had no idea how he was going to make to until Thursday. 

* * *

Merlin woke in the afternoon, his hair plastered to his face, all his long limbs draped at odd angles over the sheets. He turned over, feeling hot and uncomfortable. It wasn't even that sunny out, the sky was gunmetal grey and everything felt like the inside of a furnace. He let out a whine. Turned back over but couldn't find a cool place left on his pillow.

Gwen wandered into the room, pulled the blackout curtains closed and set a table fan on the desk. 

"Here," she said. "Use mine. I'm going to work in a few anyway."

He groaned in gratitude when she turned on the fan. Let the comforting weight of her sinking onto the bed pull him back under. She ran her fingers through his hair and just sat with him for a minute. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked. 

He peeled open one eye to look at her, and then closed it again. She continued running a hand through his hair. 

"No," he said petulantly. Then, "Talk about what?"

Gwen brushed her thumb over his temple.

"You never sleep this much unless you've had a bad scene," she said. "I thought he was good to you?"

Merlin let her play with his hair for a moment longer, collecting his thoughts. He _was_ emotionally drained by Arthur. But not because of the scene. 

"He is good to me," Merlin said at last, muffled a little by the pillow. "I yelled at him. We had a bit of a row at the end of the night. I'm worried he'll call today and never come back."

Gwen leaned to the side, catching his blank expression, frowning a little. 

"What did you yell at him for?"

"He...he can be such a prat!" Merlin exploded, sitting up. Gwen was unfazed. "He's too nosy, always asking questions and that fucking money," he gestured wildly to the kitchen. "Why couldn't he just fuck me and be done with it like the others?"

Gwen looked him over, her gaze unflinching. 

"So, you yelled at him because he took an interest in you? Because he was considerate enough to pay you for a night you weren't even working?"

Merlin opened his mouth. Closed it again. 

"Well..."

"Merlin Emrys Balinor," she said, making him wince. "Just because this is a job, doesn't mean you can't enjoy it every once in a while. Let him be kind if he wants to be kind."

"I just worry."

Gwen's gaze softened, her hand brushing back his hair. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. Pulled him in for a hug. 

"You can't keep letting Sigan get in the way of your happiness. He's in jail. He's not getting out anytime soon."

Merlin hugged her back. Tried not to think of the scar on his stomach and the hours of testimony. The way the prosecution made him feel like somehow it was his fault. How relieved he was when the photographic evidence convinced everyone that it wasn't. How sick he had been after he'd seen the photos for the first time. Right there in the court room. 

Back then Lancelot had been the one looking after him, not Agravaine. After that night with Sigan, Lancelot stopped working for Avalon, Excalibur's sister hotel. He stayed to see the trial through to the end. Picked up the phone when Merlin called him, panicking in the middle of the night. But once it was over, once Sigan had gone to jail, Lancelot couldn't stay. Merlin didn't blame him.

"Yeah, I know," he said in a shaking voice. 

"Then have fun, okay? For a little while. You're allowed to enjoy your work sometimes, Merlin."

He huffed a laugh into her neck. Let her press a chaste kiss on his lips before rising to go. 

"There's water on. Get up and have some toast before you go back to sleep. I'll see you in a few hours."

He nodded, shaking his wrist out to look at his watch. Stood unsteadily to go to the kitchen. He tapped the silver money clip on the counter while he waited for the water to boil, thinking of his work and and all the choices that had brought him here. How he had always thought he was meant for something bigger than this. He wanted to apologize to Arthur suddenly, because Gwen was right. He was being a shit. What did it matter that Arthur wanted to know more about the math he did in his head? But he knew in his heart he wasn't wrong either. Arthur didn't have a right to anything he possessed in his thoughts or his opinions or his mind. But maybe, if he earned it, Merlin would be willing to consider the idea that Arthur wasn't a total clotpole. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, to have a scene partner who actually felt like a committed participant, for a while. 

Merlin snorted, tossed the money clip to the side and started pouring himself a cup of tea. 

"Yeah, right." He muttered to himself. 

* * *

Arthur tried to focus on the meeting at hand, but he was tired and all he could think about was Thursday, and how far away it already was with Monday only half gone. He considered working from home the rest of the week, but he knew it wouldn't be any better. At least in the office there was a demand for his attention he couldn't put off. 

"I'll take a look at the reports myself," Arthur cut in, startling everyone in the room. 

He suppressed a smile. Everyone was always so sure he wasn't listening in these meetings. He needed to remind them, and sometimes himself, that he was an active participant in this business and not just a figurehead. He had the schooling for it. He'd apprenticed under his father all his life. But most of the time, he thought his teams wanted him to go home and let them handle things for him. He received the papers without looking up and continued writing notes in his black book. 

He wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty, and he needed the distraction. They could sweat it for a bit. 

By Thursday, Arthur was positively over the entire week. On Tuesday they lost a proposal to a competitor, and something about the percentages in the reports he had been given on Monday didn't track to him. He poured over the records of his business portfolio, sales transactions and accounting for the last two days amid the crisis of losing a fairly large account out of Camlan to Quest, one of his biggest competitors in the market. The numbers were getting all jumbled in his head. He didn't know what he was looking at anymore. He held a touch-base with his team early on Wednesday morning but they assured him everything was right as rain. He didn't like it.

"Did anyone talk to Bedivere in Camlan to find out what happened?" He asked, looking across the table at his sales team. 

"The simple answer is no," his VP answered. "We don't have to. Quest offers a similar product solution at a more affordable cost. They made Camlan Imperial an attractive offer, one that we couldn't match."

Arthur stared at the man, looked him up and down, and then tersely. "Get in touch with Bedivere. I want to hear it from him."

As he stood, the VP cleared his throat. Arthur paused at the door, turning to face the man impassively. Inside he was screaming. 

"My team has this under control, Mr. Pendragon. You should let us handle it."

Merlin found himself a little jittery as he walked through the doors of Excalibur, anticipation running through him hot under his skin. He took the stairs two at a time to the landing, and made for the elevator just as Valiant was stepping out. 

He barely noticed him, but as he passed Valiant cuffed him hard on the side of the head, making him yelp in surprise. His ear was ringing, the sound muffling like someone had stuffed cotton in his head. 

"There you are you little shit," Valiant took him by the neck before he could react, slammed him into the wall. Merlin struggled, but Valiant outweighed him significantly. There wasn't much he could do. 

"Fuck off," Merlin growled. Valiant towered over him. 

"The next time you take someone else's appointment," Valiant snarled in his ear. "Have your bitch friend comp a different room. Do you understand me?" 

He shook Merlin, like a particularly willful puppy. Merlin threw his elbow up, but Valiant caught it easily. 

"It's not my fault he didn't want you," Merlin spat at him. It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it. But just as Valiant prepared to slam him against the wall again, Agravaine rounded the corner. 

Merlin let out a little gasp as Valiant stepped back, and leaned his shoulder on the wall. 

"Valiant," Agravaine said formally. "You have a client waiting for you." 

"Remember what I said," Valiant hissed in his ear.

Then he was gone. Agravaine waited until Merlin had collected himself, and then stepped into the elevator with him. They didn't speak. Tonight they would be on the top floor, and it was already 6pm, and his ear was throbbing. Merlin closed his eyes. Waited for the elevator to stop moving so he could regain his balance. To his surprise, Agravaine stopped at a wood paneled door that opened on an ice machine and filled a silver bucket before handing it to him. Merlin stared at the ice, then turned to follow Agravaine who had continued down the hall without a backward glance. 

When Agravaine opened the door for him, Merlin paused. 

"Thanks," he said quietly, without looking at the other man. Agravaine glanced at him, as much of an acknowledgement as he had ever given Merlin, and nodded once. Merlin went inside. 

Arthur was scowling when he entered the bar at Excalibur, found his mood darkening when Agravaine collected his coat and walked him to the elevator.

"You'll be on the top floor on Thursdays, sir." Agravaine said by way of explanation. He passed Arthur a black key card. This one had a gold number one inlaid on the front. They didn't speak any more than that. Arthur left him by the elevator and entered the room at the end of the hall without knocking. 

It was an exquisite suite, with impossible views and an ensuite bathroom that was as large as one of the single rooms on the lower floors. He turned a circle, not really seeing the room, and then, he heard the sound of ice in the sink. 

Arthur crossed to the bathroom, his whole body relaxing when he saw Emrys. He noticed him in the mirror and those glacial blue eyes swept up to his. They shared a radiant smile that seemed to disintegrate all the worlds troubles in an instant. Arthur felt completely, unconditionally happy. 

"Hey," he said. 

Emrys snorted, straightened and came to him, shirtless, in nothing but those brown suede pants from the first night they had spent together. Arthur put his hands on the slender hips, brushed his palms over the suede fabric. 

"Is this some kind of uniform?" He mused. Merlin's hands trailed up the sleeves of his suit jacket. 

"Is this?" He countered. Arthur grinned. 

"You're such a brat," he whispered, smiling still as he pressed their lips together. 

The kiss was long and ardent, both of them pulling anything they could from the other's mouth. Breath. Moans. Contentment. Arthur wanted to do this, just this, until Emrys and he were both out of breath. And then he would do it again. 

He broke the kiss reluctantly, reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced Emrys's beanie. The blue eyes sparkled, excited, and he took the hat with a grateful sigh. 

"Thank you," he said. "I thought I'd lost it."

Arthur kissed him again, because it was necessary, and then leaned back against the door frame. 

"I wasn't sure what the protocol was. I figured I'd be seeing you on Thursday anyway."

Emrys produced a silver bill clip between two of his long fingers, held it out for Arthur. 

"Then we're even," he said. 

Arthur took the clip, closed it in his palm and settled it into his trouser pocket. 

"What do you want to do tonight, Emrys?" Arthur asked, taking his time. 

Those blue eyes surveyed him candidly, cocked his head to the side. Waited for a moment longer before answering. 

"You're asking me?" 

Arthur shrugged. "I have some ideas. Would you like me to give you some options? I'd be happy to oblige you any of them."

Merlin tried, he really did, not to feel warmth radiating through his chest and arms at the suggestion. The absolutely posh way he said everything. He couldn't help it. For a moment, it even drowned out the ringing in his left ear. 

"I'm open to suggestions," he said with a noncommittal shrug. Arthur grinned.

"I want to tie you up tonight," Arthur said, like he was discussing a particularly good dessert. 

Merlin couldn't help the way his skin prickled at the thought. Tried not to let his words get away from him when he responded hopefully. 

"Rope ties?"

Arthur nodded, his gaze searing. "Rope ties," he confirmed. 

Merlin swallowed. Moaned when Arthur touched him. Cupped his face in his hands. 

"Do you like that idea?"

Merlin nodded. Let his eyes fall closed. He didn't notice the flicker of worry that crossed over Arthur's face when his fingers grazed his left ear, the cold from the ice still lingering on his skin. Missed the way his gaze dropped to the melting ice in the sink, and back to his face again. 

"I noticed a hard point in the room," Arthur said, low against his mouth. Merlin shuddered. Felt Arthur smile against his lips. 

"I'll take that as a yes?"

"God," Merlin heard himself saying. "Yes. Please."

Arthur kissed him again, and they pressed together like they were made to fit that way. 

Arthur walked him backwards out of the bathroom, still cradling his face, and he went willingly. Letting Arthur press his mouth to his cheeks, his lips, his throat. He hummed in appreciation, let Arthur bring him down to his knees in front of the bed. Felt like he was sinking into a hot bath. 

"Alright," Arthur said, carding fingers through Emrys's hair, thumbs grazing his ears. Emrys turned his face up for him. Scooted himself a little closer between Arthur's knees, making the blonde laugh low in his throat. 

"When was the last time you were suspended, Emrys?" He asked quietly. 

He opened his mouth to respond, closed it. Thought back. 

"I can't remember," he said sheepishly.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, smoothed his black curls back away from his eyes. Emrys hummed again. He could stay right here all night. Just doing this. 

"But you've been suspended before?"

Emrys nodded. 

"Okay, we'll take it slow."

Merlin felt Arthur moving. Tilted his face up to meet him in the middle. They kissed again, and the heat was pooling in the cradle of Merlin's hips, his thighs. Filling him already. 

"On your feet," Arthur said. The words thundered through Merlin as he stood. "Center of the room."

Merlin stood under the stainless steel ring that hung from the exposed beams on the ceiling, felt goosebumps rising on his arms, the back of his neck when Arthur opened the cabinet and selected a long coil of red rope before returning to him. He breathed in deep when Arthur pressed his shoulders back from behind him, his heavy palms hot on Merlin's skin. 

"Pants on or off?" Arthur asked, kneading his shoulders, pressing thumbs into the tight muscles of his neck. Either side of his spine. Merlin moaned, his chin dropping a fraction, giving him better access. 

"Will you hit me, if I say off?" He whispered. 

Arthur reached around him, sliding his hands to Merlin's waist. His thighs. Without realizing it Merlin canted his hips to match him, leaning his head back on Arthur's shoulder. 

"Do you want me to hit you, Emrys?" Arthur asked, low and quiet. 

"Yes," Merlin heard himself say it, without recognizing his own voice. 

"Then take off your pants," Arthur murmured. "Leave your boxers on."

Emrys groaned. Pulled himself up off of Arthur's chest reluctantly to remove his pants while Arthur watched him. Uncoiled the rope. 

"Touch yourself," Arthur said impulsively, counting the yards of the rope and tossing the length of it off to the side as he went. 

Emrys stared at him, then almost shy, he started to slide his hand into the waistband of his boxers. 

Arthur tsk'd. Kept uncoiling the rope. It scattered like red ribbons across the wood floor. Emrys stopped what he was doing immediately. 

"Outside," Arthur clarified and then, seeing the flush rising to Emrys's cheeks added, "Color?"

Emrys gripped himself through his boxers, shaking a little. 

"Green," he said. 

Arthur smiled and stepped behind him, nudging his legs apart with his knee. Merlin gasped. Closed his eyes. Stroked himself through his boxers while Arthur wound the length of rope tight to his thighs, his movements precise and unhurried. Emrys pressed himself, his fingers dragging at his erection, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't get there through the barrier of his boxers. He whimpered, outside of himself when Arthur moved to his other thigh, fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind his knee. Merlin groaned, picking up the pace, biting his lip, feeling his boxers grow damp under his palm. And then, without warning, Arthur pulled his hand away, taking his other arm with it until both his hands were behind his back. Merlin gave a pitiful cry in protest, his hips straining forward as Arthur bent him back, pressed his palms together and said, "Link your fingers." Like he was reading off a grocery list. 

Merlin moaned when Arthur began tying his arms. Felt the ladder of the tie as it pulled first his wrists against each other, then elbows. Then biceps. Arthur found the perfect pressure for each spot, tightening the ropes and measuring the distances as if he'd done this a hundred times before. Merlin ached. He stuttered on another groan. Pushed his hips out, tried to find some kind of friction, anything, against the tight fabric of his boxers. 

"You seem distracted," Arthur said, starting to wind the rope across Merlin's heaving chest. His fingers grazed his nipples and Merlin gasped, arching back. 

"Something on your mind?" He asked conversationally, drawing the rope down between Merlin's thighs, hands and rope brushing over his hardened length. 

"Fuck," Merlin hissed, bucking when Arthur brushed over his cock again. He was kneeling between Merlin's thighs, tying a particularly thick knot hard against Merlin's perineum. Merlin's back bowed as Arthur checked the knot, pulling it away and letting it snap back. 

Merlin almost came then and there. 

Arthur, took hold of his shaking hips, pressed light kisses to the front of Merlin's boxers, until Merlin was trembling, unable to keep silent anymore. 

"Please," he mewled. "Please don't stop. Sir, I..." He choked on a wail when Arthur sucked hard on the base of of cock. Sobbed when he leaned back, gripping Merlin's thighs to steady him. 

"You're beautiful," Arthur said. "But we aren't done yet, love. You can wait."

Merlin heaved for breath. He didn't think he could. 

Arthur stood and took hold of the ropes across Merlin's chest, gripping them tight. He gasped, eyes flying open when Arthur stepped between his legs, hooking his heel with Merlin's bare one. 

"Color, Emrys?" He asked in a ragged whisper. Emrys couldn't get the words out fast enough. His heart hammered in his chest as he said them. 

" _Greengreengreen_ ," he gasped. 

Arthur laughed, and then kicked his legs out from under him. Merlin felt the panic for just a second, the inevitable panic of falling. And then Arthur caught him, lowering him easily to the floor by the ropes as if he weighed nothing at all. Merlin felt the ties twisting into his arms with the added weight of his body, of Arthur's grip. Felt his eyes roll back as they tightened on his chest, his hips, his...

"Oh god," he moaned, arched his hips up as Arthur placed him gently on the floor. That heavy knot pressed in harder when he flexed his hips. Rolled when he relaxed them. 

Arthur settled between his legs and it was almost too much. Merlin bucked when Arthur spread his thighs, stared hooking a series of red carabiners to his ties. 

"I can't," he heard himself moaning. "Help me."

Arthur pressed a hand to Merlin's chest, looked him over with a raised eyebrow. 

"Jesus, Emrys. You're perfect. But you can't come yet, we haven't even started." 

Merlin bit his lip. He tossed his head, his hips arching up off his arms. 

"You're not going to like my solution Emrys," Arthur said, pinning his hips to the floor. Merlin gasped, his eyes flying open. "If you can't get yourself under control."

He groaned, trying, he really was trying. But it was too much. He was flushed hot and everything was exactly as he needed it to be. He wanted to be good. But he wanted to let go more. 

Arthur slammed his hand down the front of Merlin's boxers, gripping the base of him hard. Merlin keened, his neck bent to the ceiling, rocking in Arthur's maddening grip as his orgasm nearly crested, and then agonizingly, withdrew. He twisted in the ropes tried to flex his hips. It was no use. Arthur leaned over him as he slumped back against the floor, panting. 

"Oh Emrys," he said, pressing the words into Merlin's sweat damp neck. "Did I say you could come?"

Merlin sucked in a breath, tried to hold still because Arthur had a hand on him, and now he was stroking the underside of his cock with his thumb, feather light. 

"No, sir." He whispered mournfully. 

"You're aching for it, today. Very needy. I thought you learned your lesson last time. Do you need to be reminded, how to wait?"

Merlin started letting out a series of short staccato moans as Arthur murmured the words in his ear, softly stroking him with his thumb until his hips were shaking with the effort not to move as Arthur tightened his grip on the base of him. 

"No," he whined. "Please, no. I can wait."

Arthur pressed a kiss to his jaw and then let him go. Peeling his body from Merlin's one inch at a time. Merlin gasped at the sudden loss, pinched his eyes shut as the full force of his arousal came rocketing back up his spine. He arched involuntarily. Moaned. 

"I want to believe you, Emrys really I do. You have no idea how much I want to put my mouth on you when you squirm like that."

Merlin groaned. Twisted in his ropes. 

"But we aren't even started, and look at you. Begging for it."

Merlin's response hitched in the back of his throat when Arthur pressed his thighs open, forced them wide enough to accommodate the spreader bar he was buckling into place. The padded leather tightened and Merlin canted his hips again, throwing his head back. 

Arthur finished buckling the spreader bar above his knees and Merlin gasped when suddenly he gripped him by the hips, pulling him half up onto Arthur's lap. The bar pressed into Arthur's abdomen as he checked the ropes, and then reached for something Merlin hadn't seen yet. 

When Arthur lifted the object from a silver bucket, Merlin jerked, letting out a series of panicked cries. 

"No, jesus you can't be serious, please!"

Arthur shrugged, holding him by the spreader bar, weighing the bag of ice in his hands. 

"I told you," he said. "You weren't going to like my solution if you couldn't get yourself under control."

Merlin fought him, tossing his head.

"Please! Don't, please, I won't I swear!"

"You said that before. But you've almost come twice now without my permission and I've barely touched you."

Merlin sobbed. Tried one last time. Arthur smiled, hefting the bag in his palm, pulling Merlin back up onto his lap. 

"Are you trying to close your legs?" He teased, and before Merlin could reply, pressed the bag of ice to Merlin's aching cock. 

"Jesus fuck!" Merlin shouted, bending so far back that Arthur was momentarily concerned he would get his shoulders caught beneath himself. "Fuck!"

Arthur held the bag there for a little longer than was strictly necessary, listening to Emrys pant and moan and curse him in the same breath. Then he tossed the bag away. 

Emrys slumped, his head lolling, his entire body limp in Arthur's lap. Well. Most of him. 

Arthur was impressed to see Emrys hadn't completely lost his erection. He was still half hard, and he jerked with a guttural moan when Arthur stroked him once to check.

"I suppose it will have to do," Arthur said as if it didn't matter. As if it wasn't the most arousing thing he had ever seen in his life, Emrys, screaming curses to the ceiling, getting off on the ice against his absolutely straining cock. 

"Color?" Arthur breathed, palming himself through his trousers to release some of the tension in his own hips. 

"Green," Emrys murmured. It was a floating, dreamy response, so Arthur leaned over him, checked the ropes one more time. Pinched his fingers, the soles of his feet. Checking blood flow before lining up the suspension ropes and threading them through the carabiner clips in Emrys's ties. 

"I'm going to lift you now Emrys. Just half way off the floor. Are you ready?"

Emrys smiled at him, a lazy, predatory grin. 

Arthur blew out a breath, then he reached up and pulled.

Emrys groaned as his hips came off the floor. Arthur pulled him up until his shoulders lifted, his back completely off of his arms and the floor, bowed in a tiny arch down to his knees. His legs hung open, kept wide by the steel bar between his thighs, his toes barely touching the floor. His arms flat beneath him. Arthur watched him while he tied off the ropes. Then he settled by Emrys's head. 

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Good," it was a throaty reply.

"Good," Arthur smiled. He reached slowly under Emrys, taking one of his bound hands and guiding it along one of his hip harnesses. 

"Do you feel that?" Arthur encouraged, helping Emrys close his fingers around a small loop at the end of one of the ties. 

"Yes," Emrys whispered, his brows pulling in a frown. 

"That's a pull release. It will start unraveling from your waist up if you pull it. Everything should loosen enough for you to pull your arms free and safely release the upline. This tie is one piece of rope, Emrys, if you need to, you can take it apart yourself."

Merlin felt his throat working rapidly. His fingers tightening on the loop of rope. Feeling Arthur squeeze his fingers gently before letting go. He hitched a breath, tried to let it go, but felt the tears come anyway. He closed his eyes and they broke over his cheeks, sliding into his hair, his ears. 

Arthur was behind his head now, rocking him a little in his ropes. He cried silently, his head tipped to the side, and Arthur cupped the back of his head in his hands, letting him pull in a deeper breath. Give a momentary voice to his tears. 

"Frustrated?" Arthur asked, and Merlin was sure he imagined the anxiousness in the single word. Because there was no way Arthur could know, there was no possible way to tell him how safe Arthur made him feel. How important. He shook his head, no, but it was all he could manage. 

Arthur kissed his forehead, carded his fingers through the dark curls. Massaged the back of his neck and just let his lips graze over Merlin's face, gently kissing for long minutes, until Merlin managed to kiss him back. 

Arthur leaned back on his heels. Then stood, letting Merlin hang, suspended on his own for a minute. 

"Color?" He asked as he unbuttoned his cuffs and toed off his shoes. 

"Green," Emrys said, his voice a little raw. 

Arthur returned to him, in nothing but his navy trousers, holding two items in his hands. Merlin blinked. Tipped his head back with wanton moan. 

Arthur held up the misery stick, a long flexible piece of flat steel set in a rounded wooden handle. 

"Yes, I have to admit I was surprised to see this on your preferences list. I bet not many of your play partners even know what this is, let alone how to use it properly."

Merlin bucked at his words, the sounds he was making coming out in short, soft bursts. Arthur was right of course. Merlin wanted that misery stick so bad just then he nearly begged Arthur to flog him with it. Arthur smoothed back his curls, seemed to understand. 

"Keep your eyes closed, Emrys. If you can't, that's okay, but I want you to keep them closed for as long as you can."

Emrys groaned. Nodded. 

"I want to hear you Emrys, no holding back, do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

He closed his eyes, and jumped when Arthur passed a hand over the tops of his thighs, encased in something soft and light. It was the other object Arthur had shown him. A silk glove. He jerked his legs, trying to open them wider when Arthur dipped his hand between Merlin's thighs, stroked maddeningly slow. 

The first snap of the misery stick felt like nothing at all until the metal lifted from his skin, bringing with it a hot, burning line it's wake. And then the glove, passing over the welt. Soothing. 

Merlin arched and cried out with every snap of the misery stick, his body tense, trying to anticipate the blows before they came. The tops of his thighs ached and he was absolutely straining in his boxers when suddenly Arthur took hold of the spreader bar and pulled him up, so that he was nearly upside down, the backs of his thighs and buttocks exposed. 

He hit him, again, and again, snapping the misery stick over bare skin, over his ass, vibrating the ropes with the force of each blow. Merlin started to thrash. When Arthur hit the knot against his perineum, he wailed. Twisted. Wanted it to stop and wanted so much more. 

Arthur lowered him back down, running that silken gloved hand over his thighs, his buttocks. His heaving chest. He was sobbing, laughing at the same time. He ached and it was perfect and he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this good. 

"Color?" Arthur asked, reaching for Merlin's hand. 

"Green," he said, choking on another laugh. "Green, please don't stop." 

He squeezed Arthur's hand without being told. Arthur hummed in approval making Merlin glow from the inside out. He pinched his feet, each in turn and checked the ties one more time. 

"You're doing so well for me Emrys. You should see yourself." 

Arthur traced the welts left by the misery stick. Merlin moaned, unashamed. 

"Have you ever come, untouched Emrys?"

Merlin choked on his reply squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Oh God," he whined.

"Yes or no, Emrys?"

"No, sir," he whispered. 

"I think you can do it," Arthur told him. Merlin shuddered. 

He gasped when Arthur hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them away from his over heated skin. Arthur lifted his eyebrows, fixing Emrys with a questioning gaze. 

"Red, or Green?"

Merlin didn't understand at first. And then, it came to him in a rush. His eyes rolled back in his head. He gasped out an answer, moaned heavy in the back of his throat at the sound of tearing fabric he got in response.

"Green! Green!"

Arthur tore his boxers at the seams in his fists, pulling the fabric out of the ropes. He lifted Merlin's thighs. Bit into the soft places until they bruised and sucked the wounds until Emrys was shaking under his lips. He was so close. Arthur was sure he could come just like this. But Arthur couldn't help himself. He wanted to watch. 

He took the hand held vibrator from the floor behind him, it had a wide rounded head, just big enough for a knot of rope. 

Emrys cried out when Arthur pressed the vibrator to the knot between his cock and his ass. Gripped the ropes at his waist to hold him still. He thrashed, his hips flexing, back bowed away from the floor. Arthur could hear the wood scratch as Emrys dug his nails in. His abdomen heaved in waves and Arthur watched as his heavy cock twitched, beads of precome sliding over the head. 

"I can't!" Emrys cried. "It's not enough, please!" 

"This is all you get," Arthur said evenly. "You'd better hope it's enough."

Emrys sobbed, bucked against him, twisted his arms in the ropes until Arthur could see his wrists beginning to chafe. 

"Come for me Emrys," he hissed. The sound of the vibrator and Emrys's screaming all that was left to the universe. 

"Please," Emrys choked. "It isn't enough, I need, I need...!" 

"I know what you need," Arthur said. "I know you can do this."

His cock pulsed. Arthur watched as Emrys's neck turned crimson, his whole body beginning to lock up, his shoulders twisting away from his hips. 

Arthur held his breath. 

Merlin felt the shuddering tremble of the vibrator against the knot of rope dance over his skin, felt the orgasm before he even realized he was there. His body seized, it was too much, too good, the ropes and the burning welts and the shuddering vibrations running through him. The ache in his hips, his throbbing cock and the heat, God the heat under his skin. He felt the scream tearing out of his throat as he came, bucking his hips against the ropes, against the vibrator and Arthur's mouth biting and sucking marks into his trembling thighs. He felt the orgasm slam him back and he hit it, the wall, that instantaneous vacuous silence where 

diamonds   
fall  
from  
the   
sky 

and every movement under his skin is light.

Arthur lowered Emrys to the floor as quickly as he could, cursing at himself, watching the pale face for any reaction. Emrys was staring, eyes half-lidded, a dreamy far off look to his expression. That was fine, Arthur had been hoping to see Emrys let go completely. But he wasn't responding. It was like he couldn't hear Arthur at all. 

He settled Emrys back on the floor, and gently turned him onto his side. Emrys blinked slowly, pressed his forehead into Arthur's knee and closed his eyes. 

"Emrys? Can you hear me?" 

A smile. No response. Arthur hissed out a breath and pulled the loop on Emrys's harness. Instantly the ropes began to loosen. Arthur pulled them free, trying to be gentle, but not succeeding in his haste. Emrys whined softly. Gasped when his arms came apart. His gaze beginning to refocus a little. 

When Merlin came back, he could feel Arthur's hands smoothing away the pain in his shoulders, his wrists and ankles. He was speaking softly to him, something about work? Arthur's work. Merlin focused on the words. He was aware that his cheek was pressed into a pillow, he was still laying on the floor, but there was a weighted blanket over him. Pressing him into the hardwood. 

Arthur was massaging his foot, thumbs sliding over the sole before his palms closed over the top of his foot, thumb and fingers massaging up his ankle and his shin in tiny sharp circles. Merlin groaned. Blinked blearily over his shoulder, the world swimming back into focus. 

Arthur looked so relieved, Merlin could only manage a goofy grin and a wave from under his blanket. It had Arthur crawling over him, bracing his head with his strong hands. 

"Emrys," he breathed, pressing a kiss to cheek. His temple. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

Merlin stopped Arthur's wandering kisses with his hand, pressed one to Arthur's lips for a slow, gentle moment. And then he burst into hysterical fits of laughter. 

Arthur stared at him, stunned. Emrys laughed so hard he actually tipped off the pillow, his head thudding onto the floor, and he gasped, laughing so hard now he was crying, and Arthur felt the sun coming up in his ribcage. He started to smile. Just leaned over Emrys to watch, grinning like a fool. 

"Don't...d-do not..." Emrys gasped, still laughing. There were tears in his eyes. "...get that...get that smile off y-your face you prat..."

But he couldn't finish, and now Arthur was laughing too, relieved and completely, perfectly happy. 

"That's quite the compliment, Emrys," Arthur noted when the other man had settled and he was laying beside him on the floor, head propped up in one hand. 

"Oh shut up," he said, still swallowing a stray laugh. "It's happened before."

"Has it now?" Arthur leaned over, raised his eyebrows with a knowing smile. 

"No," Emrys laughed again. "No, never. Thank you. That was amazing."

Arthur beamed.

He helped Emrys sit up after a moment, passed him a water bottle. Emrys meant to drink, he did, but he was enamored by the deep indents in his skin where the ropes had bit into his wrists, his arms. He twisted around, trying to see all of it, tilting the water bottle precariously.

"Hey!" Arthur protested, but he was still grinning when he helped Emrys steady the bottle. "Like a kid at Christmas."

"I have so many questions," Emrys breathed, still high, his pupils blown. He made a gesture with his hands indicating an explosion going off in his head. 

"Drink first," Arthur said, smiling. High on Emrys's joy. 

"First of all," Emrys said, barely finished swallowing. "When you said rope ties, I had no fucking idea. People say that here and they just want to...I don't know fucking tie my wrists to the bed posts."

Arthur's chest swelled at the compliment. He let Emrys continue, leaning forward to brush some damp curls off his forehead. He couldn't get enough of just touching him. 

"Where did you learn to do that?" He asked around another mouthful of water. "I haven't...I've never...can you teach me?"

Arthur held up his hands, laughing. 

"I take it you enjoyed yourself then?"

"Enjoyed myself?" Merlin shouted incredulously, checked his volume when Arthur started laughing again. "You've ruined me for all rope doms in the future!"

"All rope doms?" Arthur mused. "I should put that on a business card."

Emrys looked around for a pillow to hit him with, the prat. But he couldn't stop smiling. 

"Okay," Arthur grinned. "Okay, I learned like most people. I tied a partner or two to the bed at Uni, and I enjoyed it. I did some research, went to..." he stopped himself. Managed to hold his smile in place. Mostly intact.

"Went to, what? Conventions? Munches?"

"Yeah," Arthur agreed, the lie a sudden weight in his chest. "I purchased books, practiced on partners. I took a balaying class or two."

Emrys frowned. "Balaying?" 

"It's the guy who ties the ropes for rock climbers."

Emrys's eyes lit up. 

"That's brilliant."

Arthur felt his skin prickling at the sheer gratitude, the awe that enveloped him in Emrys's eyes. If he could just bottle that look. 

"It didn't teach me anything about tying people up," he clarified. "But I learned a lot about weight balance, the safest ways to attach a carabiner to an upline. The physics behind safely catching someone in a harness when they fall and what happens when you aren't being safe and how to tell when it isn't. Taking those classes gave me a greater respect for the body in the harness. I didn't get the courage to try my hand at suspensions until I finished them."

He hadn't meant to ramble like that, but Emrys didn't seem to mind. He was leaning in, his pupils huge against the glassy blue of his eyes. 

"Will you teach me?" He asked again, serious.

"How to suspend someone else, or suspend yourself?"

Emrys blinked. 

"You can self-suspend?"

"Sure," Arthur shrugged, feeling a little like showing off. He felt warm in the presence of Emrys's interest. He wanted to hold onto it for a little while longer. "Want to see?"

Emrys nodded, his eyes tracking Arthur as he stood, went to the cabinet to find another coil of rope. This one he chose was blue and shorter than the red rope. He sat down on the floor and stretched his leg out in front of him, careful to leave the left one free, and started wrapping the rope around his waist before laddering it down his thigh and over his knee to his ankle, explaining the quick motions of his hand as he went. He stood, tossing the rope through the stainless steel ring on the ceiling. The ends fluttered to the floor, and Arthur put his hands on his hips, looking around, perplexed. 

"What?" Emrys prompted. 

Arthur pointed to him, holding the rope in one fist. "Drink," he commanded. 

Merlin did with a smile. 

"There should be..." Arthur glanced around again, frowning. "Is there a ring hard-set into the floor somewhere?"

"Oh," Emrys nodded, reached across the floor and pressed a wooden panel with his fingers. It popped open, revealing a ring in the floor. 

Arthur leaned over and kissed him. Merlin felt miles high. 

"Perfect," Arthur said to himself, and then slid the tie into the ring on the floor. Back up through the ring in the ceiling. Then he sat down. 

He pulled, the ropes levering through the rings, lifting his leg and his hips off the floor. Merlin watched, slack jawed, at the power in Arthur's chest, his forearms, his shoulders, as he pulled himself into a hanging position, one leg above his head, the other bent behind him. He held the ropes in his fist as he pulled, catching the excess, and bowing towards the rope line, tied it off with one hand while his free hand took his weight. He let the line go with one hand on the floor, just in case. Then he lifted his arms and hung there. 

Merlin stood slowly, obliquely aware that he was naked. He stepped up to Arthur, who was swinging gently, spinning himself in a circle or two, grinning up at Merlin like a cat who caught the canary. 

"Amazing," he said, and meant it. Arthur shrugged, flush from the position, and set his palm on the floor to steady himself. He pulled the tie out slowly, so he could lower his untied leg to the ground before using the makeshift pulley to let down his other leg. 

As he untied himself, he felt suddenly giddy. It had been so long since he played like this, experimenting, laughing. He felt light and happy. And when Emrys knelt behind him, running his long hands over his shoulders, he couldn't stop the grateful moan that cut past his lips. He made quick work of the ties, but when he tried to turn around, Emrys pressed a kiss to his bare neck, massaging hard, working at his neck and shoulders and down his bent spine. Arthur shivered. 

"What do you need?" Emrys asked him. There was no judgement there, his hands working away the remaining tension of the week, his lips picking up the pieces that were left behind. "Tell me."

It was an echo of their previous conversation, the cheeky reply he'd given when Arthur told him he'd come to Excalibur because he was bored. 

All the playfulness in the room had suddenly become intimate, and safe. He turned to look at Emrys over his shoulder, his gaze soft, eyes wandering the pale face, collecting those glacial blue eyes, one at a time. 

"Come to bed," Arthur said. Emrys kissed him. 

Merlin woke up at 1am, warm and still drowsy, his cheek pressed against the hard planes of Arthur's chest. He blinked, the room was muted, dim light from the nightstand making Arthur's skin glow in places. Shadowed in others. He was sleeping, his head tilted toward Merlin's, his arm cradling Merlin's shoulders, pressing them close. To Merlin's surprise, he had a pair of simple, wire framed glasses on his nose, and there was a contact case on the nightstand beside him. Merlin studied this Arthur with his glasses and his bed rumpled hair. Felt his heart ache for a moment and then set it aside. He thought, he might be one of a handful of people that had ever seen this man in bed, fallen asleep with his glasses on. Somehow, Merlin knew that he wasn't the kind of person to wear them in public. 

Gently he lifted them off of Arthur's nose and leaned over him, intending to set them on the table and go back to sleep. Something crunched under his body when he pressed himself against Arthur, and it was so loud in the silence that Merlin felt his heart cave in his chest for just a second. He breathed, glanced at Arthur who hadn't moved a muscle, and then down between them. 

He spied a paper there, and after setting down the glasses he pried it out from between them. 

It was part of a financial report, only two pages of it actually, and looking at the numbers Merlin knew immediately that the original copy had far more than just two pages to it. He frowned, tilting the paper, reading the notes Arthur had written in the margins. 

Question marks and badly formulized equations. He had to catch himself there, they weren't _bad_ , exactly. They were in-elegant. Sharp and to the point. Some of them made no sense to him, which made him smile. Arthur might not have been teasing at all. He really was rubbish at math. 

He corrected himself again as he looked over more of the equations. No, not rubbish. Just not sophisticated. He knew some formulas like he knew how to tie a knot, that much was clear. Others though, it appeared to Merlin like he might be trying to do them from memory and making up the parts that he couldn't think of himself. Many of these were crossed out with corrections added. Most of the corrections were also wrong, but some of them were right.

Merlin leaned back on the bed, pillowed by Arthur's shoulder and looked over the whole report again, holding it over his head. He frowned, wandering from the circled numbers to the underlined ones, frustrated suddenly by the missing pages. There was something here, something Arthur was looking for and Merlin could see the edges of it, his mind connecting the dots where Arthur's pen had failed, but without the other pages he couldn't be sure. He flipped them over, looking for any clues, but there was no header, no title. Only page numbers in the bottom right hand corner. 

He turned to look at Arthur, and then folded the papers up and set them on the nightstand carefully with his glasses. They had set an alarm for three-thirty. He wanted to sleep a little longer here in this place before it was time to leave him. He could think about the numbers when Arthur was gone. 

But he didn't sleep. He stared at the paper, his cheek pressed against Arthur's warm skin, and the calculation he'd begun in his head began to spin out, until the algorithm he wanted was taking shape. He reached for the paper, and without thinking, pulled Arthur's coat down off the headboard where he had tossed it earlier that night. As he expected, Arthur carried two silver pens inside his suit jacket. Merlin snared one, pulling off the cap with his teeth. 

He pressed the paper to the headboard and scribbled fast and light over the back of the report, writing out the formula with precise efficiency.

When he was finished he checked it over twice, first to be sure that his hand-writing was legible, and then again for clarity. 

He didn't have all the numbers, he couldn't do the math for Arthur. But he thought he might have a formula that could help. One that Arthur could follow through without needing someone to explain it. 

He hesitated when he put the pen back in Arthur's coat. Tried to set the paper back on the nightstand but couldn't seem to let it go. If he put the paper down, he was opening a door he might not be ready to step through again. Arthur would know it was him, would ask him about it. Maybe, he would even be angry that Merlin had snooped. This appeared to be a part of an important business operation, and Merlin certainly had no authority to see it let alone pass a judgement about the conclusion of Arthur's digging, based on two pages of transaction history and no context whatsoever. 

He let the paper go, for better or worse. He couldn't hold on to this. Most likely nothing would come of it. Either Arthur would ignore the issue or he would confront him about it later. If there was one thing he appreciated about this man, it was that he was straight-forward about his concerns. Merlin settled down against Arthur again with that thought. Tried not to focus on the warning bells going off in his head, reminding him what happened last time he let his work and his personal life mix.

Draping an arm over Emrys's stomach like he belonged there, Arthur turned in his sleep, oblivious, finding sleep easier than he had in years. The paper lay behind them, Merlin's equation face down to the table, glaring in the lamplight. 


	4. Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin experiences an intense sub-drop and Arthur helps him through it. Part 1 of 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with sub-dropping, PTSD and unsafe bondage behavior. If any of these things trigger you, please be aware.

When Emrys left him that night, Arthur stayed in the penthouse suite for nearly the entire additional hour he was allotted after the end of his time. It was quiet in the hotel room and he found that he could shower and relax better than he had in a long time.

He walked out into the bar with his coat on his arm, Agravaine walking a little behind his left shoulder. As Arthur passed him the black key card, he spied a set of double doors with frosted windows across the room, with two security guards standing in front of them.

He paused to watch as a couple passed a ticket to one of the guards who shined a blacklight on it before opening the doors for them. Inside there was a colorful burst of fog dense air and the beat of indiscernible music off the walls before the silence enveloped the room again when the doors were closed. Arthur glanced around the room, but no one had reacted. He could remember seeing the double doors before but they were unoccupied and the room behind them dark and quiet. He turned to Agravaine, raising an eyebrow.

"What's over there?" He asked.

"Ballroom," Agravaine said. Arthur was used to his sudden inadequate replies to questions and waited for him to continue.

"Once a month the ballroom is open to clients who have purchased time during doors open - they can bring their escorts and the curious are allowed to participate as voyeurs for an exorbitant cover charge."

Arthur stared at the doors for a long time, still a little high from his scene with Emrys earlier, and not ready to let the energy dissipate.

"Participate?" He asked, turning to look at Agravaine over his shoulder.

The large man slid his gaze from Arthur's to the ballroom door.

"It's a once a month pop-up fetish club. Excalibur hosts any number of different shows, demonstrations, and dancers. Our own escorts participate if they aren't working, and if they have the inclination or the need to widen their clientele."

Arthur nodded. It made sense. He started to loosen his tie, shifting his coat from one arm to the other.

"What's the cover charge?"

Agravaine held up the black key card, passed it back to Arthur who raised his eyebrows at the bigger man.

"There's no charge for you."

Arthur pressed his lips together with a bemused smile, offering Agravaine a nod. He made a mental note to ask Emrys about the status of his black card next Thursday. Agravaine surprised him by taking his coat and draping it over his arm as they walked for the door.

Arthur coiled his tie into a tight spiral and slipped it into his trouser pocket as Agravaine opened the door for him. He flashed the black card between two fingers and stepped into the dark. The bass beat of the music was a physical pressure on his ribcage as he walked through the room. It was packed, which surprised Arthur, somehow. He and Agravaine made their way to the bar, a circular island in the center of the mass of bodies, and Arthur ordered a drink. Then, impulsively he ordered an ice water and passed it to his unofficial chaperone. They shared an uncomfortable moment of solidarity, and Agravaine thanked him, although Arthur could only see the shape of the words as he took the water; it was too loud to hear anything over the music.

Arthur wandered, just taking it in. He was too perfectly happy with his arrangement with Emrys to be more than obliquely interested in anything else going on in the room. There were cage dancers, and semi-public scenes on the small stages around the ballroom. By far the largest draw was to the main stage where a series of runways gave stunning views from all angles of the ballroom to three elegant pole dancers.

Arthur stopped to watch for a moment, sipping his scotch. Agravaine called it a pop-up fetish club, but Arthur wasn't really impressed. It seemed more to him like an overblown strip club, with a handful of kinksters thrown in. He didn't mind in the least. The full dark and the strobing lights made him comfortable. The mad pound of the base in his ears. His chest.

The lights changed, and he noticed a pair stepping up to one of the smaller stages toward the center of the room. The lights flashed across the stage for only a second, but Arthur would recognize those pale shoulders, the exquisite line of his spine anywhere. Emrys.

He made his way closer to the stage, watching with interest as a woman with tumble-down golden curls began a shibari tie on Emrys's arms and chest. She forced him to kneel, and he kept his eyes lowered, perfectly in character, as she encased him in rope. It was a complicated, artful tie. Meant to be uncomfortable, but not too restrictive. This was a tie that was meant to look beautiful and not much else.

There was a decent crowd, watching as the woman worked Emrys into the ropes, manhandling him roughly when she needed him to lean forward, or move back. Arthur nearly broke his scotch glass, the first time she slapped Emrys across the face. Emrys moaned, the sound somehow carrying over the music, or maybe it was just the echo of it in his head, as she tightened the ties, jerking his head back into position by his black curls. Arthur had gone from half-hard, to absolutely straining in the space of a slap.

He couldn't take his eyes off the stage. The woman finished her tie, and pulled Emrys up to his feet by the support rope under Emrys's shoulder blades and made him turn his back to the audience to see what she had done. His arms were bent at the elbows, parallel with the floor, tied down his forearms in a series of Chinese ladders that spiraled in and out of view. Arthur thought he should remember that, because after a while those raised portions of the tie would be uncomfortable, pressing into Emrys's back. The space between his shoulder blades, from neck to forearms, was occupied by a woven geometric pattern that reminded Arthur of a dreamcatcher. It had two tail ends of the rope even, hanging at Emrys's spine, nearly reaching the floor.

From the front the tie looked very simple, the chest harness she had worked into the motif just a pattern of woven criss-crosses. A basic basket weave. Arthur was aroused and a little jealous to see Emrys in those ropes. He wished he had thought of that design. It was stunning on Emrys. The floor applauded. The woman forced Emrys down to his knees at the sound, his head bent, back still to the audience. She continued her demonstration, using the trailing ends of her ties to secure Emrys's ankles to the harness with a simple looped tie that gave the impression of manacles. By the time she was finished, the ends of the rope were so short, Emrys was bending a fraction back toward the audience and Arthur smiled over the rim of his glass, knowing that it would have been kinder if she had bent him all the way to the floor. This was a distress pose, and Emrys would have to work to keep himself upright and comfortable. He watched as the muscles tightened in Emrys's shoulders, his neck. Heat pooled at the base of Arthur's spine.

He had completely forgotten the blonde woman on the stage, until she pulled a black silk scarf from her garter, a magic trick that made the crowd roar in approval. Arthur's fingers went a little slack on the rim of his glass, frowning as the woman stepped up behind Emrys. Pressed the black silk over his eyes.

The hair on the back of Arthur's neck stood on end.

She wound the scarf twice around his eyes, tying it off with a tight knot at the back of his head. And already Arthur could recognize the change in Emrys's breathing, the way his shoulders were attempting to cave in toward his chest, coming up short in the ropes. For the space of a heartbeat Arthur convinced himself that the blindfold had been discussed prior to the demonstration. It had to have been.

The woman added a gag next, a ball gag that stretched Emrys's jaw uncomfortably wide. Bent back like that, it would already be tough to swallow comfortably. Arthur could appreciate the artistry in adding the gag - if Emrys leaned back further to relax his abdomen and take his weight off the ropes, he would make it more difficult for himself to swallow around the gag. If he sat up straighter to accommodate the gag, the ropes would begin tightening around his ankles and chest. But Emrys's nostrils flared when she buckled the gag into place, and Arthur only had room in his head for the sound of his own heartbeat drowning out the music.

He felt the glass he was holding lift from his fingers as a waiter with a tray relieved him of it. He looked around, and then remembered Agravaine was with him. He had assumed Emrys had gone home for the night. Who was watching Emrys? The answer was obvious as the woman stepped back from Emrys, and moved to a table with more rope, clothespins and other accessories on it, making a show of choosing her next tool. Playing to the audience. There was no one spotting. Emrys was alone.

Arthur pushed his way to the front of the stage, shoving people out of the way. Agravaine was on his heels, and between the two of them they were able to clear a path to edge of the platform. Arthur saw none of the people in his way. What he saw was Emrys, without anyone's hands on him, blindfolded in the middle of the stage, unable to move. Unable to speak. Without the physical touch of her present on his skin, Emrys would be unmoored. Completely and utterly alone. He wouldn't know if she was coming back. And Arthur saw it the moment Emrys began to panic. The way he tried to curl into a ball, twist his wrists out of the tie.

Emrys held up three fingers, but the blonde woman was ignoring him.

Arthur started to yell. "He's red!" He shouted, trying to get the woman's attention. "You have to stop! He's red!"

People were starting to look at him like he was crazy. The woman couldn't hear him, she wasn't even looking at them. Arthur pulled himself up onto the stage. Agravaine was right behind him as he bolted for Emrys, the woman, finally noticing the commotion, turned in shock. Arthur didn't have time for her. He felt more than saw Agravaine step in her way when Arthur came down on his knees in front of Emrys, blocking the two of them from the audience. Blocking them from the woman too. This close to him, Arthur was aware of Emrys keening against the gag, his shoulders were twisting in an attempt to jerk his arms free but the tie was heavy and complicated. He wouldn't be able to break it.

His breathing was erratic and he had broken some skin in his thrashing, blood spotting at the thin skin of his collarbone, his wrists.

"Emrys!" Arthur said.

The pale body heaved for a breath at the sound of his voice. Head lowered. Choking on a sob.

He reached out and took Emrys's face in his hands, pressed his forehead to Arthur's chest and began to unbuckle the gag.

"It's okay," Arthur told him.

The music wasn't nearly as loud here on the stage. The gag came free, and Arthur tossed it away. Emrys pulled in a wet gagging breath.

"I can't...I can't breathe," he sobbed into Arthur's shirt.

Arthur tried to stay calm, his hands pulling the knot on the blindfold free as quickly as he could. But he was afraid, because Emrys actually sounded like he couldn't breathe.

"I've got you, you're doing just fine."

Emrys twisted in his ropes again, pulling the blindfold out of Arthur's fingers, and he started to thrash, begging at the top of a scream to let him up, to get him out.

Arthur clenched his teeth, pulled the blindfold free without untying it, and took hold of Emrys's face in his hands again. Those glacial blue eyes were half winced in pain, real fear making them dull. His lips trembled, but there were no tears.

"Emrys! Listen to me. Look! Look at me I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I've got you."

Emrys jerked, still trying to twist away, but something caught him and held, and for a second it was as though he'd only just realized Arthur was kneeling in front of him on the stage.

"Breathe, Emrys. Come on. That's it."

He inhaled too fast and blew the exhale through his lips with a wheeze. But it was something. It was a start.

"I can untie this," Arthur told him. "You're safe Emrys -"

"Merlin," he gasped, startling Arthur. Arthur pressed the black curls back away from his forehead. Pulled in a shaking breath of his own.

"Merlin," he said. The blue eyes closed, another sob escaping.

"Look at me," Arthur commanded. It took too long. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut tighter before he managed to peel them open, lashes wet now, to look at Arthur.

"Keep looking at me," he said. "I'm going to untie this. So just look at me, can you do that?"

His breathing was shallow and erratic. Every breath Merlin took was a gasp.

"Look at me Merlin, the ends of the tie are around your ankles, so keep looking at me, love. I'm not going anywhere."

Merlin nodded, tracked Arthur as he slid out from in front of the shaking body to pull the tie first on his right ankle, then on his left. This was the hardest part. Arthur was fairly certain he could untie the whole thing from the front, where Emrys could see him and feel him. But he couldn't do that with his ankles. He made quick work of them, but it brought on the tears, and the thrashing started reflexively when his back came free of his ankles.

"Merlin!"

It was no use, he was scared and he couldn't hear Arthur anymore. Arthur had to take him around the chest with both his arms and physically brace the struggling body so he wouldn't hurt himself. Arthur felt his heart breaking against the swell of his ribcage. The pressure of Arthur on him only made it worse for ten long seconds. He fought him, screaming at him to let him go, and begged him to let him go, and finally cried for it. He slumped, still struggling to breathe properly. Sobbing hysterically into Arthur's collar.

"It's okay," Arthur whispered. "It's okay, I'm right here, I've got you."

He pulled the ties as quickly as he could, but Merlin was still gasping, crying for long stretches silently until Arthur's shirt was damp.

"Merlin," Arthur said, trying to steady his own voice. "Merlin, I need your help, okay? Listen for a second love, we're halfway through."

Merlin was wheezing in shallow breaths, trying to stop himself from crying only seemed to make it worse. Arthur closed his eyes, pulled the ties free from touch alone to collect his thoughts.

"Merlin, the formula you wrote on the back of my reports - it was you who wrote it?"

Merlin heaved against him, coughed and nodded.

"Brilliant, it was brilliant Merlin. But it's too complicated for me. Walk me through it, love. Help me understand it."

Merlin cried. He could barely manage the words and Arthur's skin was hot. This tie was so fucking complicated and there should have been scissors. Something, anything on the stage in case this happened. He ground his teeth. Pressed his body into Merlin's as he pulled the ties free one at a time, careful not to jam the ropes in his haste. He didn't know what Merlin's reaction would be if the ropes tangled now. He thought Merlin wasn't going to answer him, and that was fine. He just needed Merlin to consider thinking about something else, anything else. But after a few wet, pained coughs, Merlin started to speak.

The words were fractured, but Arthur could understand them. He pulled the ties free and Merlin explained to him which numbers to put where, what to expect from the solution and why. He rambled on for a minute about how he couldn't do the math, not really because he'd only seen two pages of transaction history, but he had a feeling the formula would give him the answer he was looking for, at least he thought so, and Arthur hushed him gently, because finally, finally the binding was free of his shoulders and back, and the release of the pressure there made Merlin gasp. Relieved and still on the edges of panic, but starting to let Arthur do his work without fighting him and that was all that mattered to Arthur.

"Okay," he breathed into Merlin's hair. "Okay."

He said it like a mantra as he pulled out the final ties from Merlin's biceps, his wrists, until the whole mess dropped to the floor and scattered at Merlin's side.

Immediately he crowded Arthur, pulling his arms up with jerking motions, like a puppet with cut strings. Arthur pulled him against him, rocking a little. Merlin pressed his arms between their two bodies, his face still buried in Arthur's neck.

"I'm so proud of you," Arthur whispered, finally looking past Merlin to the stage.

They had drawn quite a crowd from the sheer commotion of the whole thing. Agravaine was doing his best to block them from view, he'd brought two other bouncers up on the stage to create a wall between them and the crowd; and there were other bouncers ushering the spectators to stay back, to enjoy another demonstration or the dancers on the main stage. Few took the advice.

The golden haired woman was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was another woman pushing her way to the stage, she had dark brown curls and skin like coffee and cream. She shoved her way through until she met the resistance of the bouncers, and Arthur lost track of her as he turned his attention back to Merlin.

"You did everything exactly right, Merlin. I saw your hands, when you used your safeword. This wasn't your fault. You were perfect."

Arthur was relieved when Merlin cried. Not the sobbing, hitching sound of someone who is terrified or contrite. Not that horrible half wheeze he had managed around his tears. But like someone who is in real pain, trying to quell the ache. It hit them both like a landslide.

"I'm not going to leave you," Arthur told him. "But we need to get up. Can you stand for me?"

Merlin let Arthur pull him to his feet but made no effort remove himself from Arthur in the slightest and that was fine too. Arthur didn't think he could handle that.

Agravaine was there, backing up to them his voice carrying over his shoulder. "Where?"

"Somewhere quiet," Arthur said, voice raised. "Wherever you like!"

As they made their way down the side stairs of the stage, the woman with the brown hair came barreling down the small access area, looking stricken. Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin's shoulders until the woman spoke.

"Merlin!"

 _Gwen_. This was Gwen.

Merlin flinched at the sound of his name. He'd devolved into a hiccuping cough between sobs, but the tears were ebbing. Arthur ran his fingers over the back of Merlin's neck.

Gwen was on them in seconds. Merlin let out a yelp when she touched him, and Arthur instinctively pulled Merlin to the side, out of her reach.

"Gwen?" Arthur asked to stop the fury that was building behind her eyes. The look cleared. She knew.

"Do you know where we can go?" Arthur asked. "Somewhere quiet?"

She nodded, jerked her chin and started off into the sea of bodies ahead of them. The room she took them to didn't have a number on it. It looked like an average hotel suite. Two queen beds. A bathroom with a shower. A desk. After she'd opened the door, she told Arthur she would be right back.

"These room aren't stocked like the others," she explained. "I'll bring some water, whatever else I can find. Take care of him." And then she was gone. Agravaine stood outside the door, still holding Arthur's coat.

They sat on the bed. Merlin was making a small sniffling noise, but otherwise had calmed. Arthur kept his hands on him. The back of his neck, carding through his hair, his spine, his hips his shoulders. They didn't speak as Merlin pressed them back to lay on the bed, so he could use Arthur's arm as a pillow. Let Arthur touch him. Remind him he had walked away. He wasn't left on that stage by himself. Someone who cared had been watching.

Gwen returned with water, a cup of hot tea. Some chocolate. Arthur urged Merlin to sit up but he didn't want to move. His eyes, though red and still wet, were half-lidded. Dazed.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured, smoothing back the black hair from his face, pressing his lips to the high cheekbones, the space between his nose and the corner of his mouth. "Sit up for me, just for a minute, then you can sleep."

The blue eyes focused on those words, but Arthur couldn't be sure which ones had done the trick. Gwen had taken a seat in a chair by the bed, but she was silent, watching. Slowly, reluctantly, Merlin allowed Arthur to pull him upright, tucking his long legs so that they crossed in front of him, shoulders rounding, head lowered. Arthur helped him hold the mug of tea Gwen had brought, cooler now, but still warm. He cupped his hands around Merlin's cold fingers, urging him just to hold the cup. When he was sure Merlin's grip was steady, he let go, and cupped the back of Merlin's head instead. Pressed their foreheads together.

"Try to drink some of this," Arthur told him. "Gwen brought you something to eat. Can you try that for me?"

At the sound of her name, Merlin lifted his head, blue eyes sluggishly wandering the room until he saw her, and then meeting her liquid brown gaze, his eyes filled with tears again. He lowered the mug to one of his knees, and lifted a hand to cover his eyes, crying silently.

"Merlin," Gwen said softly, crossing the room to him. "Everything is going to be fine."

He leaned a little toward her, and standing by the bed, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he pressed his face into her abdomen. Arthur wanted to say something, but this was the most intense drop he'd ever witnessed, let alone navigated. He felt like he was drowning, but somehow he had to keep his head because Merlin was already submerged and if Arthur didn't, he might not make it back to the surface.

Merlin managed to drink his tea with Gwen's help, to Arthur's relief, and as Arthur was preparing to hand her the chocolate bar, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

The room had been unnaturally silent after Merlin stopped crying, and Arthur cursed, barely managing to fish the thing out of his pocket. Although the sound had startled them all, Merlin was too dazed to react, and Gwen gave him a look that reassured him that she would be fine if he took the call. Arthur passed her the chocolate as he thumbed open his phone. Stood to cross the room. It was George.

"Mr. Pendragon, you are due back at the office in two hours."

Arthur shook out his watch. Couldn't believe that it was already six am. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

"George, please send a notice to my administrative assistant, I will be working from home today and I will not be available by phone. Email responses will be delayed."

"Of course, Mr. Pendragon. Will you be needing the car today?"

"No, George. Thank you. You can go home. Take the rest of the day off, I'm sorry you were waiting."

"It's no trouble, Mr. Pendragon. I will remain on call, if you should need anything."

Arthur sighed and ended the call. Scrubbed his face with his hands. When he turned Gwen was looking at him, and he wasn't sure what to make of her expression. When he came back to the bed Merlin was drifting, he'd managed to eat half of the chocolate bar and most of the tea.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, sitting down. As soon as his weight returned to the bed, Merlin lifted his head, blinking. "Let's get you under the covers, okay?"

"I want to go home," Merlin croaked. He sounded awful and resigned. Arthur just kept touching him, unsure of how to respond. Gwen cut in before the silence could stretch on for too long.

"I can bring him home," she said gently. Arthur breathed out through his nose slowly.

"Okay," he hated himself, for how small he sounded. He didn't want to leave him; Merlin wasn't through this yet and it didn't feel right to go. What would he do, waiting for Thursday, wondering if Merlin was okay? It wasn't like he could call him to check in.

"Do you need anything," Arthur asked. "Before you go?" Merlin frowned. Arthur was running his hands through his hair, brushing his temple with his thumb. He leaned into the touch. Closed his eyes.

"Where is your bag?" Gwen asked Merlin, rubbing circles into his back. Merlin blinked.

"Lockers," he said.

"I'll get it," she said. "Then we'll go home, okay?" He nodded, transferred his weight from Gwen's chest to Arthur's. Breathed in, closed his eyes again.

Arthur rubbed his arms. Ran his knuckles down the bare spine.

"If I give you my number," Arthur said carefully. "Will you call me, or have someone call me, to let me know you're okay?"

Merlin shifted, pressed a little closer but didn't reply. Arthur rested his cheek on the top of Merlin's head.

"I don't care if it's from a payphone, Merlin."

"Where are you going?" Merlin asked him, his voice raw and quiet. "Why would I call?"

Arthur wasn't sure he understood the train of thought that had resulted in these questions. He continued as best he could.

"When Gwen takes you home, I'll work from my house today. I'll go home, but I'll be available if - "

"Don't go." He said it so quietly, Arthur was sure he'd misheard. His heart skipped a beat.

"I'll stay here, if you want me to stay with you."

"Come home with me. Stay there."

Arthur pulled Merlin closer. Tightened his hold so he would understand that what he said next wasn't a rejection.

"I'm sure Gwen will stay with you, if you don't want to be alone."

"Gwen always stays with me," Merlin told him.

She stepped into the room with Merlin's bag and he huffed in annoyance. Started to pull away. "You don't want to," he said, untangling himself from Arthur's arms.

"Merlin," Arthur mourned. He barely noticed Gwen standing by the door.

"I want you to feel safe. Will you still feel that way in the morning, if I come home with you?"

Arthur was aware of two things happening at the same time, the start that Gwen gave when he said the words. And the swing of Merlin's arm. He leaned back, but Merlin shoved him hard, his eyes more focused than Arthur could remember since this whole horrible thing had started.

"I'm not a fucking child, stop talking to me like I'm an infant. If you don't want to come, just say it. I can manage..." he trailed off. Relaxed his grip on Arthur's shirt. "I can manage. But I'd do better, if you came."

Arthur stared at him, covered Merlin's hands with his own.

"Alright," he said. "If you're sure."

He looked up at Gwen who looked torn. But he felt Merlin relax under him, and he couldn't take it back. It churned in his chest. But he couldn't avoid the relief that flooded him. Merlin didn't want him to go. Gwen cleared her throat.

"We don't...that is, we don't have a car, we usually take the tube."

Arthur didn't miss the way she said 'we' but didn't have time to think about that. He was thinking about how he'd given George the night off, and how the taxis would be an absolute nightmare this close to business open.

He thumbed open his phone again. Dialed a number by heart and held Gwen's gaze as he waited.

"Arthur?"

He couldn't help the relieved smile that passed over his face at the rich voice on the other end of the line.

"Gwaine," Arthur said. "I need a favor."


	5. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Gwen connect over the conflict of Arthur entering her and Merlin's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we found some plot! We'll be back to Excalibur in the next chapter - thanks for sticking with me!

By the time they pulled up to the back of Merlin's apartment building, all stories had been traded. Gwen and Merlin were roommates, they lived in Brixton and Arthur introduced them to Gwaine, head of his security staff.

Gwaine talked through the entire drive, and Arthur was happy for it. He was a positive, unapologetic clown and it was relaxing Merlin to listen to him joke about Arthur's horrible attempts to become a footballer at Uni, how on his first day working for Arthur a squirrel had climbed into his trouser pocket and refused to leave. Gwaine roared at that, tossing a look over his shoulder at Arthur, eyes glowing.

Arthur covered his face with one hand, unable to completely suppress a laugh of his own.

Merlin was smiling. Gwen had her arm around him, looking both amused and perplexed.

When Gwaine put the car in park, he turned and threw an arm over the seat to look at Arthur.

"Check in, you know the drill. Everyone thinks you're working from home today, so do me a favor and answer an email or something. I'll be across the street."

Arthur nodded, took the bag from Gwaine as he passed it back. Then Arthur opened the doors to the SUV, and helped Gwen and Merlin step out. They made it up to the apartment in silence, Gwaine leaving the parking lot as quickly as he'd come. He felt the tension in the air between himself, Gwen and Merlin. The unasked questions and the concerns. He tried not to let them sink in too deep. He didn't care about much other than getting Merlin into bed, and making sure he was there when he woke up.

They entered, and Gwen shut the door behind them as Merlin used Arthur's shoulder to toe off his trainers and kick them off to the side.

Gwen said something about putting on some tea, but Merlin was heading down the hall, and Arthur followed him. There were three doors at the end, and Merlin went into the one directly ahead of them. To his left was a bathroom. He guessed Gwen was on the right.

Inside, Merlin didn't turn on the lights. He was in his brown suede pants still and a hoodie, and he crawled into bed still wearing them.

"Hang on," Arthur chided, reaching down to tug at the ankle of his pants. Merlin gave him a look but Arthur gestured to the darkened room.

"Where are your clothes?"

Merlin hesitated for so long, Arthur thought he might refuse to tell him. Then he said, "Top drawer."

Arthur felt his way along the dresser, pulling the drawer open. It was early morning now, and through the light coming in from the gap in the blackout curtains he was able to fish out a pair of sweatpants and a thermal undershirt. Merlin took them without complaint and pulled them on, while Arthur stood by, feeling uncertain. Merlin looked more comfortable now, but exhausted. And he should sleep, and Arthur wasn't going to leave him because he promised he wouldn't, but he wasn't sure what to do next, all the same.

"Do you need something to sleep in?" Merlin asked him quietly. Arthur blinked, shook his head and lifted the bag Gwaine had brought him from the end of Merlin's bed, feeling foolish.

"I'll be right behind you," he said.

He was just pulling down his shirt, a red, long sleeved Henley, wondering where Gwaine had gotten it from, when Gwen entered the room with a mug of tea and some biscuits.

"Here," she handed them to him, keeping her voice down. "If you need anything let me know. He sleeps a lot after a bad scene, so if you get hungry just come out into the kitchen and help yourself."

"Thank you, Gwen."

She stared at him for a moment, then put a hand on his chest. For a second Arthur thought she would say something more, but instead she patted him once with her warm fingers and then turned to go. Merlin drank and ate without any prompting this time. Arthur had a feeling he would be ravenous when he woke. When Merlin passed him the mug he sipped tentatively, the smell of the tea unfamiliar to him. Arthur pulled back, his eyebrows lifted, staring into the deep chestnut colored liquid.

"What kind of tea is this?" He asked. Merlin took the mug from him, inhaled another swallow.

"Mum makes it," he said. "Something with sea nettle in it."

Arthur took the mug back from Merlin, sipped it again. The tea was exceptional - a rich, mellow flavor with a sweet grass aftertaste. Even with milk added, it still held a deep red brown color and Arthur smiled at it. When he looked up, Merlin was staring at him, quietly chewing on a madelene, his expression curious. Thoughtful.

"What?" Arthur asked, leaning over to pass the mug back to Merlin. He shook his head, finished chewing and nodded at the tea around a swallow.

"You finish it," he said. Then he ignored Arthur's question.

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asked quietly. Merlin didn't answer him, not really. He brushed his hands off on his sweatpants, shrugged and looked away.

Arthur set the mug down on the bedside table, as Merlin tugged him down on the bed. It was a comfortable bed for two people, but not exceptionally large. What it lacked in size it made up for in blankets. There must have been three of them, one quilted, one down and one fleece. Arthur wrapped them both up in them, pleased with the weight on him, and pressed Merlin's back into his chest. Although they had shared some calm moments, when the silence fell Merlin started shaking, unexpectedly.

Arthur pressed his palm over Merlin's rapidly pounding heart. Kissed the back of his neck.

"I'm right here," Arthur whispered. "I've got you."

Merlin pressed his palm over the back of Arthur's hand. Wove his fingers with Arthur's.

"I shouldn't have agreed to that demonstration," Merlin told him, the whisper throaty and uneven. "I should have begged off. She told me what she had in mind. I asked her if she'd read my limits list and she said she had. But I forgot..."

He trailed off, his voice deep and emotional now. On the verge of tears again. "I forgot you had mentioned it was on my preferences list. I never had it changed. I wasn't thinking..."

"Merlin," Arthur hushed him. "This was a horrible mistake. It wasn't anyone's fault. You did everything right."

"I didn't know what to do," he whispered, pulling in a shuddering breath.

"You did everything exactly right. I saw you, Merlin."

"But what if you hadn't been there?" He asked. The sound of his voice broke something in Arthur's chest.

"I was. I'm here now. I'll be here in the morning," he said after a moment had passed.

Merlin shuddered, and then relaxed against his chest.

At some point they fell asleep, drifting for long languorous moments and then darkness all at once. Arthur woke twice during that day, once because Merlin had crowded him so close that he nearly fell off the bed. He took the opportunity to check in with Gwaine. The second time he woke was to answer an email or two from his phone and check in again. He drifted after that, in and out, until he couldn't ignore his ravenous hunger any longer. He sat up, a little dizzy and pressed his fingers into his eyes. Flinched when he realized he'd left his contacts in. His eyes ached. He removed them as carefully as he could, tossing them in a nearby garbage bin. He looked around. Squinted at the sudden haze over his vision.

Merlin still had an arm draped across his hips and Arthur was not particularly inclined to move it. He spied a madelene on the bedside table and snagged up the biscuit. Drinking the last of the cold tea in one swallow. Merlin wormed his way up his body as he laid back down. Finding Arthur's shoulder even in his sleep to rest against.

Arthur cradled him. Ran his fingers through the black curls until Merlin stirred, groaning. He turned over, and Arthur suppressed a laugh at the sight of him, sprawled out over the sheets. Finally extricated, Arthur stood and fished his glasses out of his bag and quietly left the room.

He blinked in the sudden light, ran a hand through his sleep mussed hair.

Gwen was in the kitchen when Arthur tentatively entered, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. She was in a long skirt and white top, balancing cups against her chest as she attempted to fill the cabinet. Arthur snapped a hand out when she saw him, and startled, dropped one of the mugs. He caught it in his palm, and Gwen laughed nervously, setting the rest of the cups carefully on the counter one at a time.

"Cheers," she said. "Sorry about that."

Arthur smiled. Handed her the mug.

"How is he?"

Arthur shrugged. "Better I think, still sleeping."

Gwen nodded, emptying the dish rack with quick, sure motions.

"I've never seen him like that," she admitted. "Not even after a bad scene."

Arthur leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You said last night that he sleeps a lot after a bad scene. Does that happen often?"

Gwen glanced up at him, and Arthur remembered in a rush that they weren't friends. That he was prying and it wasn't right.

"You don't have to answer that," he told her. She let out a breath.

"No, no. It isn't that. He told me you were a good person, Arthur, I just had my doubts."

"Why?" He felt compelled to ask, a little put off but not really offended. Warm inside, that Merlin had spoken to Gwen about him.

"He doesn't know who you are," she said without looking at him.

Arthur felt his blood run cold.

"Gwen..."

"He won't ask, and I won't tell him. We don't discuss client's private details."

Arthur still felt that humming pressure in his blood from the surge of adrenaline at her words. His breathing felt a little unsteady.

"I don't..." he stopped. Tried again. "It's not because I don't trust him. I'm not brave enough to tell him."

As he said it, he was alarmed by the truth of the statement. Gwen turned to look at him, cocked an eyebrow that seemed to say that she thought he was pandering. Edging for humility when he didn't really mean it.

"What does bravery have to do with it?" she turned back to the dishes as she said it, then added. "We understand, you need to be discreet. There's nothing wrong with that."

Arthur had to turn away from her, because it hurt to hear her say it.

"He treats me like a person," Arthur admitted, glancing at her. Gwen stopped putting the dishes away. Turned around fully to face him. Still skeptical, but curious. She leaned back against the sink, bracing the countertop with her hands.

"And how do people normally treat you? Like - "

"Like a spoiled rich kid?" Arthur finished for her, a sardonic smile on his face. She flushed.

"No," he admitted quietly. "More like a convenience store."

Gwen didn't say anything for a long time. Arthur continued to stare at the floor, wondering when Merlin and Gwen had become something more important than a customer service rep. An appointment for Thursday evenings. They weren't friends. It was possible they never could be. But they couldn't be strangers either. He needed to say something to break the tension but nothing sounded right.

"I know I pay him," Arthur said. "It's the same thing, really. But..."

He trailed off. Gwen stepped up to him, her skirts swishing in the space between them.

"You would know it, if he were acting," she said. And Arthur was so grateful, because he had known that, seen it in Merlin when Merlin was still Emrys, but he couldn't be sure, not completely. He cleared his throat after too much time had passed.

"Thank you, Gwen."

"I should be thanking you," she said. "What happened?"

Arthur glanced at her, confused for a second before he remembered that she hadn't seen it.

"He was rope modeling for one of the professional Dommes. I don't know who, a blonde woman. She used a blindfold and he tried to signal red to end the scene but she didn't see it."

"But blindfolds are on his limits list. We always provide the details to professionals for demos and they're usually very good about that."

Arthur was shaking his head before she even finished the sentence.

"It's on his preferences list. We discussed it recently because when I had him read his limits back to me that first night, he said blindfolds."

Gwen looked like she might be sick.

"You can fix it though?" Arthur prompted, not wanting her to feel responsible. "Merlin said you could update the list."

"Of course I can, but..." she threw up her hands. "You don't understand, Arthur I would never, I couldn't forget. Not after..."

He frowned. "Not after?"

She hesitated. Arthur was reminded with an uncomfortable pang, one more time, that they weren't friends, no matter how much it felt like they were.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Don't answer that. He was...very passionate about not sharing personal information. And with good reason, I imagine. I'm not..." he trailed off. Felt like he was rambling, then added, anyway. "I have no desire to make anyone feel uncomfortable or unsafe."

Gwen said nothing for a long time, and then seeming to struggle with the same conclusions that Arthur had come to, looked around the kitchen, at a loss.

"Are you hungry? I could make something."

Arthur felt a little out of place at the suggestion.

"I don't want to impose."

Gwen smiled ruefully. "It's nearly 4pm. I imagine you must be starving."

"Would you mind if I ordered out? For everyone, I mean. Maybe when it gets here, he'll be up to join us."

Gwen was giving him a thoughtful look again, and then glanced down the hall at the closed bedroom door.

"What did you have in mind?" She asked.

* * *

When Merlin woke, he was immediately uncomfortable. His head was throbbing, and the air in the room felt stale. He was thirsty and his neck ached and he wanted desperately to keep sleeping. He was so hungry, that it was physically painful and yet he couldn't seem to move.

He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, making a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand carded through his hair.

He threw himself back, eyes flying open, and managed to strangle down a shout at the last second, but it was a near thing. Arthur was laying on the other side of his bed, very still, his hands up as if he were expecting to be arrested. Merlin stared, his pulse pounding in his head.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said. "I didn't realize...I didn't mean to startle you."

Merlin tried to focus on the shape of Arthur in his bed, he tried to tell himself that he had asked for this, begged Arthur really, to come home with him. But the adrenaline in his blood made his heart skip, and then surge triple time into his throat, and he thought of Sigan, and how Arthur knew where he lived, and how Gwen was his roommate and he had brought a stranger into their home, a stranger who fucked him for a fee.

"Merlin?" Arthur said quietly. He hadn't moved. Hadn't attempted to touch, just watched Merlin's eyes.

"Where is Gwen?" He asked, feeling dizzy. It came out a hoarse whisper and he winced, his throat raw.

"Out in the...she was in the kitchen, I think she's...do you want me to get her?"

Merlin shook his head, already disentangling himself from the sheets with more force than necessary.

"No, stay here. I'll go. Just a minute."

And without waiting to see what Arthur would do, Merlin leapt for the door and took the hall at a jog to find Gwen.

Arthur stared after him as he went, lowering his hands slowly. He had a knot in his stomach, thinking of the look in Merlin's eyes. How afraid he looked. Like he did when Arthur pulled off the blindfold on the stage. Only this wasn't a bad scene, and they weren't at Excalibur. The only thing in the room had been Arthur.

He closed his eyes. Tried not to hurt. Then he pulled himself up off the bed, and slowly began to dress, feeling foolish and sorry and wondering what Gwaine would say to him when he picked him up from the curb.

Merlin startled Gwen on the couch, and immediately she came to her feet when he swung around the corner looking like a wild animal. She caught him in her arms when he fell to her, barely coherent and speaking in a low whisper, as though he were afraid someone would hear. It scared her, and then abruptly she understood.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I don't know what I was thinking, I should have asked you and now it's not just me, it's you too and I had no right..."

"Merlin," she pulled him close. Murmured in his ear. "Merlin relax, it's okay. It's fine. It's really fine, you're safe. I'm safe."

He heaved against her. She ran a hand over his shoulders, his back.

"Merlin," she said quietly. "I want to tell you something, okay? Earlier this afternoon he told me what happened last night. I almost told him, about Sigan, and he stopped me."

Merlin lifted his head, momentarily shocked. Gwen brushed his hair back away from his face.

"It was in the heat of the moment, when he told me that the blindfold was on your preferences list. I started to explain to him, I started yelling really, about how it wasn't possible because..." she trailed off. "And he stopped me."

Merlin's shoulders were starting to come down. He looked wary but no longer terrified.

"He said you told him you didn't want to share personals. He said he had no desire to make either of us feel unsafe."

Merlin closed his eyes, his head lowering a fraction. Drew in a deep breath.

"It's okay," she whispered again. "What's done is done. We can look for another place in the morning if you want. It's okay."

Merlin buried his face in her neck, clung to her for so long that both of them jumped when the doorbell buzzed. They knocked heads and Merlin sat back on his heels as Gwen got up from the couch rubbing her cheek.

"Just a sec!" She called to the door. "That'll be dinner," she said to Merlin.

"You ordered takeaways?"

"Not me," Gwen said. And went to answer the door.

Down the hall a door opened. Merlin stood, a little unsteady on his feet as Arthur entered the hall, looking so unlike the Arthur that for a second he just stared.

Arthur was dressed in a pair of blue jeans with no accents, cuffed smartly at the ankle and a dark mahogany leather belt with a white v-neck t-shirt. He was wearing his wire-framed glasses, and there was a jumper over his arm. In his free hand he carried a small duffle-bag. In his socked feet and standing awkwardly at the end of the hall, looking back at Merlin, he could have been someone Merlin had met at a Tesco's or gone for coffee with. He didn't look like a business man with enough money to throw at a standing reservation with an escort rated at five grand a night. They stood there, just looking at each other, when Gwen came in carrying bags on her arms.

"Well don't just stand there, you two," she called as she went into the kitchen. "Food's here."

Arthur came down the hall slowly, and set his bag and his jumper by the door before turning to Merlin.

"Gwaine is across the street," he said quietly. "I can leave anytime if you want me to."

Merlin swallowed.

"I just...I forgot..." he ran a hand through his hair and didn't look away from Arthur's eyes when he finished. "I just scared myself. I forgot that you were here, that's all."

"Food!" Gwen called from the kitchen.

Arthur watched his eyes longer than was strictly necessary, until Merlin was fidgeting a little under his gaze.

"You must be starving," Arthur said finally with a sigh. He stepped to the side, put his arm out like he would guide Merlin into the kitchen by the small of his back but he never made contact.

Merlin really was starving. He sat at the table and helped Gwen set out the dishes. It was from the curry place on Brick Lane and Merlin had to fight not to raise his eyebrows. Arthur was sitting across from him, waiting for Gwen and Merlin to serve themselves first. He seemed lost in thought as Merlin passed him a dish.

They began eating in silence but Merlin couldn't contain himself for very long. He never could.

"Jesus this is the best curry I've ever had," he said suddenly.

Arthur smiled at him over the rims of his glasses.

"I'm glad."

Gwen nodded, getting up to grab a glass of water. "Hot though!" She said over her shoulder. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Do you wear contacts usually?" Merlin asked impulsively. Arthur stopped chewing his food for a second and to Merlin's utter shock, actually blushed.

"Yes," he said, swallowing. "I left them in last night on accident."

Merlin leaned on his hand thoughtfully as he picked out another forkful of food from his plate. Gwen was just sitting down again and he was trying to think of something to say, thank you, or something to that effect, when Arthur's phone rang.

He frowned, checked the caller ID and abruptly stood up from the table.

"Excuse me," was all he said before striding into the living room to answer the phone.

Merlin and Gwen didn't have a large apartment, it wasn't difficult to hear the conversation in the other room, although the two of them tried to make the appearance of small talk, eventually it died off as they listened.

"Where?" Arthur was saying, his tone a barely controlled shout.

Merlin and Gwen stared at each other and then glanced at the living room in unison.

"Text Gwaine...no, text Elyan the coordinates, I want to know what the last heading was immediately. What was the tail number?"

Another pause.

"That tail was supposed to be grounded. No, I don't understand, _but you had better make me understand_ , because I have a report on my desk that says otherwise."

Merlin put his fork down. Gwen cleared her throat and looked at the table.

"Get me the Operations Team Lead, I want him in my office in thirty minutes. You find that plane, do you understand me?"

There was a long silence that followed and then suddenly,

"Gwaine, I need to be at the London office in 30 minutes. There's been an accident. Percival is missing."

Gwen's head shot up. Merlin felt the hair on his arms beginning to rise.

Arthur came back into the kitchen then, and it was clear he was trying to control his features.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have to go. Thank you, for everything."

Without giving it much thought he leaned down and kissed Merlin on the cheek, stalling whatever Merlin had been about to say. And then he picked up his bag and coat by the door. At some point he had already gotten his shoes on.

"Arthur!" Merlin said, twisting in his chair to see the older man reach for the door. He turned his blue eyes on Merlin, and they were dark.

"Is everything okay?" Merlin asked weakly. Arthur's shoulders straightened when he asked. And there was a knock at the door. When it opened Gwaine was there with an umbrella and already speaking.

"Heading was North by NorthWest, time, 17:52..."

Arthur didn't answer as he stepped over the threshold and into the rain with his security. He didn't need to. The door shutting made the silence even heavier.


	6. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is in a foul mood when he comes to Excalibur this Thursday. So is Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments! Keep an eye out for the next chapter - Merlin has a bad after-scene drop when leaving Excalibur for the night. He and Arthur finally discuss Sigan, and why Merlin can't play with blindfolds. The plot thickens!

* * *

Merlin was in a foul mood when he came to Arthur that Thursday, and it was apparent the moment Arthur walked in the door.

He was kneeling on the carpet in front of the bed, back to the door, his head lowered a fraction, hands demurely resting on his thighs. Arthur took a moment to observe the tension in Merlin's back, the straight set of his spine and the apparent nonchalance with which he held himself so quiet and still. Arthur recognized this as a kind of self punishment; something Merlin only did when he wasn't in the mood for games, when he was feeling out of his head and in need of someone else to take control for a while. Arthur knew how difficult it was for Merlin, who's brilliant mind was always at work, to sit still and straight, and to not speak unless spoken to.

That was fine. Arthur was in need of something else tonight as well. He was careful always to never bring personal anger into a scene with a partner - that was a toxic game to play. But he was wired and just as tense as Merlin was. They had found Percival's plane, gone down over the Yukon. Thankfully, he hadn't been seriously injured. But he would be in hospital in Canada for the time being, and the matter of the aircraft was an itch in Arthur's brain. No one on his Operations Team had yet to provide an adequate explanation for why that tail number had been returned to active rotation. He thought of Percival alone in a hospital bed one last time and then put it from his mind. Let his gaze refocus on Merlin's tight spine.

He wondered somberly if this was one of those times when Merlin would feel comfortable sharing what was bothering him, or if this fell outside the purview of their relationship. He couldn't be angry for it. He paid Merlin. They were in the business of using each other.

He hung his coat and cuffed his sleeves immediately, taking his time because he knew it would make Merlin angrier. Then, when he could feel the tension in the air, he walked to the cabinet, removed a single item, and slammed the door shut.

The noise crashed around the room, and Merlin startled badly. Arthur did not acknowledge the scare. He came up behind Merlin, settling into his own space comfortably. Willing himself to be the person Merlin needed, even if it was just for eight hours. Even if at the end of the night it was a lie.

"I'm surprised, Emrys," he said quietly. "I've never known you to be impolite."

Merlin's shoulders dropped a fraction, but when he turned to look at Arthur over his shoulder, his glacial blue eyes were incendiary. Arthur regarded him coldly.

"Turn around. You didn't want to look at me when I came in, you'll have to earn it, now."

Merlin turned, but his mouth was set in a thin line, and his hands had curled into fists on his thighs. He stared at the end of the bed as though he could set it on fire. The air felt electric between them.

Here, Arthur hesitated. They had played this game before, when Merlin was feeling particularly bratty. But something about this felt different. Raw. He wouldn't play with Merlin if he were doing it because they had an appointment. He was willing to be used. But he wasn't willing to pay for rape.

He stepped up close, so Merlin could feel the presence of him against his back, and gently cupped the back of Merlin's head in one hand.

Merlin's skin was hot, and although the tension was ringing against his bones, Arthur felt his concerns give way a little, when Merlin leaned back into his hand.

"Give me a color, Emrys. If you say yellow or red now, we can spend the night watching a movie, or doing nothing. We can just rest for tonight. I won't be disappointed."

Under his hand, Merlin's head tilted a fraction, his chin lifting. He did not answer immediately, and when he did, his voice was pitched no higher than Arthur's had been.

"I don't want to rest, or be quiet, tonight," he said. "Green."

Arthur stepped back from him then without warning, and the absence made Merlin pull in a breath.

Arthur weighed the flogger in his hand. He wouldn't normally start here, but Merlin needed something heavy, something to white out the noise in his head, and this would lay the groundwork for what Arthur had in mind.

"Up on your knees, Emrys," Arthur told him sharply, measuring the distance of his swing.

Merlin rose, the muscles in his back flexing under his shoulders.

"Hands on the bed. You were very rude when I came in tonight, so you won't be getting any help from me. You'll stay right where you are, and you won't make a sound unless it's to use your safeword. Am I understood?"

The words thundered out of him, and Merlin's shoulders jerked in surprise as he braced himself on the end of the bed. Without being told, he widened his knees, and lowered his head before he answered.

"Yes, sir."

Arthur swung.

The first blow wasn't a hard one. The flogger was an exceptionally heavy tool, made of multiple strips of suede leather. It didn't take a particularly forceful swing to land an impressive blow. He struck Merlin three more times like that, until his skin turned pink under the lash. And then he put his shoulder into the swing.

The flogger snapped as it met Merlin's skin this time, and he rocked forward with the blow. Arthur waited a beat, then struck him again that way, on the other shoulder. Merlin flinched, but didn't say anything as the blow connected, his hands gripping the edge of the bed. His skin was reddening now.

Arthur was careful not to lower his swing, and accidentally strike Merlin's lower back, but he didn't relent. They made it through six more blows in utter silence before Merlin was flinching at just the sound of the flogger connecting with his skin.

Arthur struck the bedpost by Merlin's head, and he jerked, letting out a shout in surprise. And then, he froze.

Arthur took him by the hair and dragged him to the center of the room.

Merlin, unprepared, clutched at Arthur's arm, hissing, as Arthur bodily tossed him onto the floor below the ring hard-set into the ceiling.

"What were your instructions?" Arthur asked, leaving him to open the cabinet again. "Speak."

Merlin glared at him, panting, still on his hands, and leaning on one hip where he'd been thrown. Arthur ignored him.

"Don't move. Don't make a sound unless it's to use your safeword." Merlin spat at him.

"You failed," Arthur told him flatly. He replaced the flogger in the cabinet. Selected something else. "Take off your pants."

Merlin stood slowly, and did as he was told. Arthur returned with a coil of rope, and when Merlin had finished unlacing his pants, Arthur took his wrists before he could finish removing them entirely.

Merlin glowered at the floor. Arthur let him. Began a simple wrist tie that looped each wrist three times, and knotted in the center like a hangman's noose. He checked the tightness of the ropes, and then tossed the end through the silver ring.

Merlin grunted when Arthur pulled, stretching Merlin's arms above his head just to the point of discomfort. He wasn't quite on his toes, but he wasn't flat on his feet either, and as Arthur tied off the upline, it was becoming clear to Merlin he would have to work to remain in the same place as he was told.

"What number was it?" Arthur asked, right in his ear. Merlin hunched at the sudden sound of his voice. It took him nearly too long to answer.

"Eleven," he said.

Arthur jerked his head back by his hair, and Merlin gasped, his back arching.

"Eleven, _sir_ ," he amended. But he managed to make it sound like 'you dolt'. So Arthur covered his mouth with his hand from behind, and bit him.

He allowed the shout Merlin gave in response, as he closed his mouth over the soft outside of Merlin's bicep. Merlin groaned into his palm, tried to twist away. Arthur held him fast, pulling his head back. He kept sinking his teeth in until he was sure it would bruise.

When he stepped back Merlin dropped against the ropes, stumbling a little. He jumped when Arthur yanked off his pants and tossed them aside, leaving him in his boxers.

"Then you'll take another eleven. Don't make a sound unless it's to use your safeword."

Merlin instinctively took hold of the upline in his hands.

They had gone hard before, but the dragon's tail Arthur held in his hands now wasn't a common tool for them. The silicone whip was a single, brutal lash and it would burn when it connected. So when he struck him the first time, Arthur only put a third of his effort into the swing.

The snap of it was deafening. Merlin wasn't expecting it, and he jerked in surprise, his lips parting in shock. He managed to stay silent but Arthur hit him again almost immediately, and the searing line that ripped up his back had him slamming his mouth shut to quell any noise.

Arthur paced the blows. Three in, and Merlin was already bruising. White, angry red welts were rising on his skin. By the sixth swing, he was starting to cave into his shoulders, all of his bravado bleeding out of him by the eighth. His back was a mess. The bite mark on his arm was already purpling. Arthur struck him on the outside of his thigh. Merlin arched, jerked his leg up and caught the tail end of strike across his ankle. He turned his head into his arm and heaved into his own shoulder.

Arthur hit him again on the other thigh. The lines were almost perfectly symmetrical. Merlin's thighs were shaking, when Arthur paused on the last swing.

He waited. Then took Merlin across the backs of both thighs with a vicious blow. Merlin couldn't help it. He screamed.

Arthur sighed. Coiled the whip and circled Merlin, coming to a stop in front of him.

Merlin was crying, silently, his head bowed between his arms, half hanging, half attempting to stay upright. When Arthur stepped up to him, Merlin started to lift his head.

Arthur slapped him across the face.

He allowed the shuddered moan that Merlin let out in response.

"I didn't say you could look at me. You didn't want to see me when I came in tonight, when I came to see _you_. Why should I let you look at me ever again?"

Merlin pulled in a sob. Tried to find his feet and half-failed. He was painfully hard, the outline of his cock straining against his boxers.

"You can't do anything right. It's disappointing."

Arthur tossed the whip away, and the sound of it clattering to the ground made Merlin start. Arthur ran his hands along the insides of Merlin's thighs, making him cant his hips and twist in the rope tie.

"Stand still. Show me you can follow at least one simple direction tonight."

Merlin struggled. He kept himself more or less still, as Arthur lowered himself to the floor, just touching. Fingers grazing his thighs, the backs of his knees. His hips. When Arthur pressed his mouth to the straining bulge at the front of Merlin's boxers, the body under his hands locked up, Merlin throwing his head back with a strangled cry.

Arthur tsk'd. Then he bit him again. Merlin writhed as Arthur nipped at the insides of his thighs. Biting hard in places and pinching with the edges of his teeth in others. He jerked and cried out when Arthur bit his side, the fleshy part above his hip. His hair was damp with sweat and he was finally limp in the ropes when Arthur stood again to face him. Panting. Tears sliding off his nose.

Arthur pressed himself up close to Merlin, supporting his weight. Merlin whimpered at the contact, everywhere Arthur touched him was bruised or burning.

"Wrap your legs around me," Arthur said unkindly. "I'm not done with you yet."

Merlin did as he was told, slowly, hissing in protest when Arthur grabbed his thighs and lifted them, digging his fingers into bruises and welts when he wasn't fast enough to comply. He wrapped his long legs around Arthur's waist, locking his ankles with a breathless moan at the contact between them. Arthur adjusted his grip and let go with one hand to untie the upline. It came free of the ring, and Merlin cried out when his arms dropped. Arthur guided his still bound hands over his neck, and carried him to the bed. Merlin melted against him, still crying softly.

"What's wrong?" Arthur snapped at him as he set him down on the bed. "I gave you three chances and you still couldn't do what you were asked."

Merlin kept his head lowered as Arthur pulled his arms from around his neck and began untying his wrists, checking his hands. Merlin squeezed his fingers without being told.

"You see?" Arthur said softly. "I know you can do it. You're so good when you want to be."

Merlin shuddered at the praise, leaned into Arthur when he reached up to smooth back his curls.

"Color, Emrys," Arthur commanded.

"Green," it was a wet, whimpered reply. "Green."

"Then take off your boxers. Get on your hands and knees, on the floor."

Merlin pulled in a shuddering breath. Stood to do as he was told and stumbled.

Arthur caught him.

"Hey. Hey," he whispered, lowering Merlin to the floor. "Sit here a minute. Stay where you are."

Merlin did as he was told. Drank gratefully when Arthur came back, tipped a water bottle to his lips. Arthur let him shake, quietly against the bed a moment, frowning. Then again,

"Color?"

"Green."

Arthur watched him step out of his boxers, the head of his cock smeared damp. He lowered himself to the floor on his hands and knees and Arthur picked up the rope.

He didn't speak as he pulled Merlin's hands back so that he was laying on his chest, his hips in the air, knees wide to balance himself. He didn't pull back hard, not wanting Merlin to strike his chin on the floor, only enough to make his objective clear. Merlin settled against the floor, just breathing, his lashes wet, and waited quietly while Arthur tied his wrists to his thighs.

Arthur checked his hands, put two fingers between each of the ropes and then sat back on his heels. He slapped Merlin hard across the outside of his thigh, over one of the hot welts left by the whip.

Merlin yelled out a protest, eyes squeezed shut. Arthur slapped him again over the same spot.

"Please!" Merlin yelled. "Please, I'm sorry, don't - !"

He keened when Arthur struck him across the ass.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't give you permission to speak." Arthur told him darkly. Merlin cried, his forehead pressed into the floor. Arthur slapped him again, hard.

"Arthur, please!" He said it so tragically, that Arthur stopped his next slap mid-swing. Instead he took hold of the trembling hips, making Merlin flinch. Smoothed his hands down the long line of Merlin's spine.

"What do you want?" Arthur asked, low. Merlin took a moment to gather himself, sniffed. Let out a cough around his tears.

"Please let me speak," he whispered.

"Why should I? I gave you every opportunity to be good."

"What can I do?" He murmured, sounding despondent.

"You should have been thinking of that before. You're only doing it now because you don't want to be punished again."

Merlin whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Please. Arthur I don't..." he trailed off, coughing again. Gently, Arthur leaned over him and slipped an arm under his shoulders. He lifted Merlin so he could sit back on his heels, and up off his chest. Merlin sniffed again, shifting uncomfortably, keeping his head lowered as Arthur came around him to sit in front of him.

"You don't what?" He asked, quietly, less steel in his tone.

"I don't want to disappoint you."

He said it so softly, Arthur almost didn't understand. He was already half hard, but at those words, heat pooled in his stomach. Made his trousers suddenly, uncomfortably tight.

"Emrys?"

Merlin shifted at the sound of his name, but he didn't look up. Arthur smiled. Took Merlin's chin in his hand.

"You can look at me, Emrys."

Merlin sobbed in relief, lifting his eyes to Arthur's for the first time that night. His pupils were blown, the blue eyes glassy.

"I might be disappointed in some of the things you do, Emrys," Arthur told him quietly. "But I have never been disappointed in you."

Merlin lowered his head again, his shoulders hunching a little.

"Please," Merlin said pitifully. "Tell me what to do."

"Lay back."

He had trouble with it, but Arthur helped him back down to the floor. He laid with his knees up and wide, his hands still tied to his thighs, and Arthur stroked him, making him buck, with a cry.

"You want to make it up to me?" Arthur said sweetly. He gripped Merlin's cock firmly, making Merlin toss his head, rubbing his thumb along the underside of his crown. Merlin choked on his response.

"Y-yes!"

"For what?" Arthur prompted, adding a twist to his wrist as he stroked. Merlin bucked, tried to close his legs. Arthur forced them open again. Picked up the pace.

"For...for...being rude," he moaned. "For not..."

Arthur let go of him. Merlin whined.

"For not listening!" He said. He was straining, trying not to flex his hips.

"Don't you dare come, Emrys."

Merlin arched his back, bowing away from the floor with a scream when Arthur pressed his thumbs into the bruises inside his thighs. Arthur forced his legs open further, and slid a finger along the cleft of his ass.

"If you can wait, Emrys. I'll forgive you. You can make all the noise you want but don't move, or I'll take you and then leave you with nothing but your own hand until you come two more times."

Merlin arched and moaned. Shook his head.

"Color Emrys?"

"Green."

Arthur slid a finger inside. Merlin bit his lip, his chin lifting. His head lolled, his neck arching when Arthur worked him open, adding first a second, and then a third finger. He fucked him with his hand slowly, crooking his fingers, searching.

"Fuck!" Merlin yelled, his hips shaking with the effort not to move. Arthur brushed up against the spot again, and Merlin was unraveling.

"Fuck, Arthur I can't! I'm close, please!"

Arthur stopped his hand, covered Merlin's heaving abdomen with his warm palm. When Merlin had settled, Arthur removed his hands and started to unzip his trousers. Merlin's shoulders twitched at the sound. Made a mewling noise in the back of his throat as Arthur positioned himself at Merlin's entrance. Pressed in a little.

He leaned over the pale body, arms on either side of Merlin's ribcage, knees under his arms. He rocked in slowly. Taking his time. Merlin let out a guttural moan when Arthur finally seated himself, his body starting to relax. Then Arthur began to move.

He thrust in, sliding out slowly and slamming back hard, until asking Merlin not to move was a moot point. Almost immediately Merlin was begging him to say it. To let him off the hook.

"Please, I'm so close I can't - let me come, please I'm trying, Arthur please!"

Arthur groaned, picking up the pace, feeling his own climax racing down his spine. He wasn't going to last. He shifted his knees closer. Merlin threw his head back again.

"Fuck! Not there! Please I won't be able to stop, Arthur say it's okay, please," his volume was rising in his desperation, and Arthur pressed his luck, hitting that spot one more time.

"Not there!"

"You want to be forgiven, Emrys?" Arthur panted into the pale skin, backing off slowly. Merlin shuddered underneath him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry. Please, Arthur..."

"Then you can come," Arthur said agreeably.

Merlin arched at the words. Let out a wail when Arthur started to move again and added,

"After I do."

He fucked Merlin hard, pressing open his knees with his own body weight, urging Merlin to move with him. Merlin gasped, moaning, his shoulders coming off the floor every time Arthur slid in against his straining cock. He was going to come. Arthur could feel it in the way Merlin's abdomen tightened against him. The way his moans began to back up on him. Arthur buried himself inside Merlin. Came with a sudden, ferocious jerk of his hips, shouting Merlin's name at the top of his climax. Merlin screamed his name in response, came right on the edge of Arthur's orgasm, his body bowing and rigid. His neck flushed crimson.

Arthur came back to himself laying across Merlin, who was prone underneath him. Slowly, Arthur pushed himself up, looked Merlin over. He had a dazed look to him, his eyes focused on the wall, but not really. Relaxed and pliable and completely gone.

Arthur slid out of Merlin carefully but he saw the way the skin tightened around Merlin's eyes. He untied him, laid his limbs out and then sat back, running his hands through his hair, wondering what he should do now. He wanted to get Merlin up and looked over - he was bruised badly and Arthur wanted to make sure it was salved before their time was up. But there was nothing for it until Merlin resurfaced.

Instead he lowered himself to the floor and pulled the duvet off the bed. It took some maneuvering, but eventually he was able to cover them both, and guide Merlin to lay on his chest, his back off the floor. And because this had only happened once before, Arthur fell back on things he'd done the first time, and began telling Merlin about his day.

About how Percival was safe, but he was still concerned about the aircraft. About how he still hadn't spoken to Bedivere and how he had tried to use Merlin's algorithm but he was probably going to have to hire someone to do it for him because he didn't know what values were relevant to add. And on and on.

When Merlin came back, he was aware of Arthur speaking, and the ache in his body, and how he wanted a weighted blanket not whatever they were underneath now.

He shifted, tried to curl in closer to get more body heat, but Arthur stirred, realizing he was awake, and forced him to lift his head.

"Hey, there you are," he said. And the quiet contentment in his voice made Merlin suddenly emotional. He covered his face. Tried to hold it off.

Arthur seemed to understand. Perfect, clairvoyant Arthur, who immediately tugged on his arms, urging him to stand.

"Up on your feet, love," he said, trying to sit up. "Let's get you into the shower."

He helped Merlin stand in the shower with his hands braced against the wall. He was shaking because he was cold and the shock of the scene was setting in. So Arthur rinsed him off with the hot water as quickly as he could, helped him wash his hair. Merlin hummed when he rinsed the shampoo out. Let Arthur rinse the soap down the drain and then bundle him into a heavy bathrobe.

"Under the covers," Arthur said. "I'll be right behind you."

Once he was clean, Arthur took the first aid kit from the cabinet, and carried it to the bed. He pulled down the covers, making Merlin shiver, and he lay on his stomach while Arthur checked his bruises, made sure the whip had only welted badly. But he saw no breaks in the pale skin.

So Arthur pulled the covers back up to Merlin's hips, and then, smearing a lavendar ointment on his hands for muscle pain, gently pulled Merlin's bathrobe down around his shoulders and pressed his hands there.

Merlin shuddered, moaning under his breath when Arthur began massaging his shoulders, his neck and lower back. Arthur continued for a long time, until Merlin's skin moved without resistance under his hands, and Merlin was making small, pleased sounds in the back of his throat. He moved to his thighs, running his hands over the bruises, checking for breaks in the skin or rope burns. He found none.

Impulsively, he kissed the back of Merlin's thigh, lips pressed to a particularly nasty welt. Merlin shifted, and he could feel the blue eyes on him from over his shoulder at the head of the bed. But Arthur continued without looking up, until he came to the hem of the bathrobe.

They didn't usually do this, although it had happened before. Arthur wasn't in the habit of pushing sex, especially after the scene had ended. But he was feeling geared up still. He wanted something he just wasn't sure what. He pressed the bathrobe up, hiking it to Merlin's hips, and spread his thighs.

Merlin's hips came up off the bed immediately, when Arthur spread him open. Licked a tentative stripe from his balls to his hole. Merlin strangled down a noise he had never heard him make before. Arthur licked him again.

Merlin was clutching his pillow, pressing back into Arthur's mouth as he flattened his tongue and lapped; slid his tongue inside. He gripped Merlin's thighs, stroked the pale skin with his thumbs. Sucked and licked until he was panting. Until Merlin pulled away.

He stared up into those blue eyes; let Merlin cup his face. Kiss him. He groaned against Merlin, his hands careful with his bruised skin as they pressed in close, and Arthur let Merlin lead him along, content to do nothing but touch and feel.

Merlin straddled his lap, urging him to lay back, and untied first his robe, and tossed it away, then Arthur's, pulling it down off his strong shoulders, following the fabric off with his mouth. He pressed his hand to the small of Arthur's back and urged him to lean into Merlin's mouth, and then bit him.

Arthur moaned, his hand cradling the back of Merlin's head as he sank his teeth into Arthur's collar. Bit down in the space between neck and shoulder. Sucked and kissed until it bruised, rocking down on Arthur's lap. Arthur clutched at him, his hips canting, whiting out the pain of Merlin's teeth on his skin. And this is what he needed, that sharp reminder of Merlin under his skin, that ache to get him through the rest of his week. And Merlin knew, he always knew, and Arthur was so grateful he couldn't speak.

Merlin kissed him again, letting his mouth come off of the bite mark with a sucking sound, and he reached between them, stroking him up until he could position himself over Arthur's hardened length.

He pulled back, panting, and Arthur steadied Merlin's hips in his palms, watching as Merlin lowered himself, until Arthur was inside him for the second time that night. Arthur opened his legs wider, started to bend his knees a little, the motion burying him deeper, making Merlin arch with a groan. But he stopped when a pale hand came down on his chest, and Merlin shifted to lean over him.

Arthur stared up at Merlin, a little awed, his hands carefully navigating the welts and the bruises along his back, his sides.

"You were perfect tonight," Arthur said without thinking. "You did so well for me."

Merlin smiled, pressed his lips to the bite mark on Arthur's collar.

"I didn't listen very well," he murmured. Started to move.

"You never do," Arthur huffed a laugh, letting his head fall to the side as Merlin rode him. He moaned, and Merlin picked up the pace, until Arthur couldn't stop himself, he bucked up into Merlin as he came down, and Merlin cried out into his chest until the two of them were at pace together, the cadence easy, as if they had been born to move this way.

Arthur reached up, one hand in Merlin's hair, his other he slid between them, and Merlin clutched his arm as Arthur pumped him until it was too fast and they were falling out of sync, and Arthur felt Merlin tightening around him. Merlin came, rocking down into Arthur, pressing him deeper, until Arthur arched into him with a groan, and Merlin collapsed back on Arthur's bent knees, breathing hard.

"Come here, so I can hold you," Arthur said, one of his arms draped over his eyes. Merlin huffed a little at the command, but obliged him. Arthur smiled, knowing Merlin was doing the same without having to look.

They slid apart for a second, and Merlin used one of the discarded bathrobes to wipe them off before he settled down against Arthur's side.

"We took up quite a bit of time tonight," Arthur mused, glancing at the clock. Merlin, who was drifting already, put the tips of his fingers against Arthur's lips to quiet him, and snuggled down deeper underneath the covers.

"Yes," Merlin breathed into his skin, his words sleepy and calm. "You were very needy tonight."

Arthur leaned back, his lips parting in shock, and Merlin's hand dropped to his chest.

"Me?" He said indignantly. Merlin grinned at him from under his long lashes. Started to laugh before closing his eyes again.

Arthur chuckled into Merlin's hair, settling down again so they could sleep for a while, before Merlin had to leave.

"Don't be a brat," he said fondly. Merlin yawned.

"Then don't be such a clotpole."

Arthur blinked. Turned that one over in his head and then decided against asking.

"Do you need anything?" He said instead. Merlin shifted closer, if possible. Shook his head.

"Just stay here."

Arthur did.


	7. Solid Weight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur cross a line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I have two chapters that span the same scene (this happens kind of often in my writing) as with chapter four and five, I will do my best to post those chapters in quick succession. So here is the continuation of the last chapter following Merlin as he walks home from the evening with Arthur. Enjoy (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

* * *

When Merlin got on the tube that night, he sat gingerly, careful of his bruises. Secretly relishing the pain. He leaned back in the seat, and heard a crackling noise as he shifted. Slowly, he felt himself over, found a folded up piece of Excalibur hotel paper in his back pocket. It was a phone number, written in impressive cursive. Merlin read the note over three times before pulling out his wallet, and tucking the paper inside.

_We didn't have much time to come down tonight - that was my fault. If you need to talk, feel free to call._

Merlin thought he would be angry, but instead he was apathetic. He remembered Arthur offering him his number the night he dropped, when he made Arthur bring him home, when he panicked in the morning. They hadn't talked about it. Merlin had been sure that Arthur would cancel his reservation. But here they were, not strangers. Some bizarre middle ground between familiarity and friendship. And they went on, as if it were normal. As if this were the way things were supposed to be.

Merlin recognized that his thoughts were too somber, that he was too lethargic. But he couldn't seem to do anything about it. He was dropping. But it was a soft drop. Not the edgy panicked fall he'd experienced on the stage the night of the demo.

He closed his eyes. Best not to think of that.

Merlin wiped his hands on his jeans. Wondered what kind of broken parts he must be carrying around inside him, to let someone hit him. Tie him up. Make him cry.

He clenched his hands into fists. Forced himself to keep his eyes closed, listening to the clatter of the railway beneath him. Tried to relax his jaw and failed.

Some people, he thought, were made for successes and kindness and fairy tale endings. He just wasn't one of them. He was a creature of the dark, and the guilt he carried around inside him was the price he paid to feel like his skin fit him for once, like he was right and real and that maybe there wasn't anything wrong with him after all.

And then the sun would come up and he would feel like his skin was on too tight again. He would walk down the sidewalk to the cafe on the corner and surely everyone knew, they could see it on his face, and the silence would slowly begin killing him again. The silence that invades in a crowded room, when everyone else is talking to someone, except you.

Merlin picked himself up off the seat at his stop. Made his way slowly down the sidewalk, head bent.

He wondered idly what Arthur would do if he saw him in that cafe. Whether he would pretend like Merlin didn't exist.

Someone brushed past him, jostled his shoulder. He gasped, his welts and bruises protesting as the kid ran past. Called an apology over his shoulder. Merlin stood very still. Breathed through his nose until the pain settled back under his skin. He was aware it was snowing.

He lifted his mobile from his pocket. Dialed the number by heart before he could reconsider. Arthur picked up on the second ring.

"This is Arthur."

He sounded different somehow. Merlin smiled a little bitterly to himself. Swayed under the falling snow and the light of the street lamp overhead.

"That was very unprofessional of you, passing me notes."

Merlin waited, felt a twinge of panic when no response was immediately forthcoming. He had been stupid to call. Arthur was only being considerate - he didn't really want to hear from Merlin. This was a mistake.

"Merlin, are you alright?"

He closed his eyes. Felt the snow collecting on his lashes.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" He heard himself asking. "Have...have you ever thought...that?"

"I have," Arthur said. "But never about you."

"I let you hit me."

"I know."

"And then we just...go on. Pretend like it never happened. I walk around with these bruises all over, and it feels like everybody knows, but no one will say it out loud."

"Say what, Merlin?" Arthur asked him gently. Merlin opened his eyes again, momentarily disoriented by the light and the snow.

"That I'm disturbed. A whore. A monster. Whatever you like."

"They don't say those things, Merlin, because none of them are true."

"And how would you know?!" Merlin shouted suddenly into the receiver. "You pay me to fuck you! What could you possibly know about it?"

"I know that I've felt that way. Broken, or wrong. I carried that for a long time."

Merlin pressed the heel of his hand into his eye. Drew in a shaking breath.

"And you don't, anymore?"

"Sometimes," Arthur said quietly. "No matter how acceptable it becomes to be different Merlin, to want different things, we are all afraid of judgement. Even me."

Merlin snorted, rubbed his eyes. His chest still felt tight.

"The first time I slapped a woman and enjoyed it, I couldn't sleep for two days. We discussed it before and afterwards. But it was a weight on my chest for a long time. A long time."

Merlin slid his hand into his pocket, started toward his apartment building.

"And now?"

"Now, I trust my partners or I don't play with them. I don't lose sleep over a good scene, anymore."

"It was a good scene," Merlin said, because it needed to be said. Because he could hear the raw emotion in his own voice and knew Arthur would too.

"It was," Arthur said without hesitation.

"Gwen is away for the weekend," Merlin said softly, pushing open the door to his apartment. He started to toe off his boots. Shut the door behind him.

Arthur hesitated. Replied gently.

"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"Will you come over?"

The silence hung in the air. Merlin felt his pulse in his jaw.

"Do you need anything, anything specific?"

Merlin listened with a kind of oblique relief, as Arthur began moving on the other end of the phone.

"No, thank you," he whispered.

"Do you want me to stay on the phone with you, until I get there?"

Merlin looked around. Remembered he was supposed to be taking off his shoes, his damp coat. His wet socks.

"Yeah," Merlin said. Humiliated and a little startled by the distress in his own voice. On the verge of tears.

Arthur was moving and that was good. Merlin could hear him opening drawers maybe. Fabric stirring.

"Where are you now, Merlin?"

Blue eyes gazed down the empty hall. Swept across the living room. The kitchen.

"I'm home. I'm just...standing by the door," he finished lamely.

"Are you still in your work clothes?"

Merlin nodded. Then, "Yeah."

"Take them off, love. It's snowing, you must be soaked."

In truth, he wasn't that wet. But he was cold, and his hair was damp and he'd forgotten his gloves at home that morning. At least he'd remembered his scarf.

"Okay," he said. Leaned down unsteadily with the phone pressed to his ear still, to unlace his boots with one hand.

"Tell me when you're done."

"Okay."

A car door slammed. Voices muffled. Merlin toed off his boots finally. Unwound his scarf. Slipped off his coat.

"Is that Gwaine?" He asked as he pulled off his wet socks. His feet were damp and clammy. It made the wood floor even colder as he stepped off the rug in front of the door.

"Yes," Arthur said and Merlin could hear the smile on his lips. Merlin smiled back.

"Is he your bodyguard?"

"Oh Christ," Arthur laughed. "The man already has an ego the size of Wales. No need to make it any larger."

Merlin chuckled as he listened to Arthur fending off Gwaine's questions.

"Would you drive? He was only being polite in any case, there's nothing to tell." Arthur said to Gwaine.

"Agravaine wishes someone would hurt me."

Arthur sobered suddenly. The other end of the phone became eerily silent.

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know," Merlin replied honestly. "It's just a feeling I have. I'm done."

Arthur let out a breath through his nose.

"Okay, Merlin. I want you to find the heaviest jumper you own and put it on. Put on some sweatpants. Some socks."

"I'll have to put the phone on speaker."

"That's fine."

"If he isn't your bodyguard, what does he do?"

"I told you," Arthur said patiently. "He's the head of my security staff."

Merlin tapped the speakerphone button on the screen of his mobile. Set it down on his dresser.

"Sounds a lot like a bodyguard, to me."

 _"I am!"_ He heard Gwaine cut in. Merlin laughed, a real laugh. It caught him by surprise.

"He's really not."

Merlin dressed slowly. He put on his sweatpants and a thermal undershirt but just stood, still shivering, staring blankly around his room. He was trying to remember if he owned any jumpers, let alone a heavy one. He was sure he did.

"Merlin?"

Merlin blinked. Tried to remember what Arthur had been saying to him.

"I can't remember where I put my jumpers," Merlin told him.

"That's fine, love. I'm here. I'll be up in a second. Can you come to the door?"

Merlin was already moving, his socked feet shuffling a little down the hall. He pressed his face to the door, the phone back against his ear, and watched through the peephole for Arthur.

"Where will Gwaine go this time?" Merlin asked absently. "The cafe across the street won't be open until eight."

"I'm not sure. He'll be nearby, in anycase."

Merlin saw Arthur coming up the steps through the little sliver of glass in his door. The blonde head and the wool coat. His duffle bag and his leather gloves. He had his mobile pressed to his ear and Merlin was so, so, grateful that he almost forgot to open the door.

Arthur lowered the phone from his ear. Merlin did the same.

"Come in," he said, still shaking a little. "It's cold."

Arthur did. Set his bag down and stepped off the rug where their shoes were spreading melting snow, and wrapped Merlin in his arms. Merlin made a sound in protest as Arthur backed him up toward the couch, but it was warmer, and Arthur was a solid weight on him, and that was all good.

Arthur looked him over when they reached the couch. Smiled a little ruefully.

"Always so cold."

Merlin laughed, ducked his head a little.

"Sorry."

Arthur shook his head, and Merlin let him press him down into the couch. Arthur crouched in front of him, and pulled off his gloves, his coat, as he spoke.

"I have something for you," Arthur said. Merlin frowned, feeling immediately uncomfortable.

"I don't..."

Arthur waited patiently. But when Merlin struggled for an explanation, appeared to give up, Arthur opened his duffle bag.

"Put this on first? You can give it back to me later. Next Thursday, if you like."

He pulled an enormous jumper from his bag - a black cable knit - that fairly drowned Merlin. Arthur was much broader than him, with heavy set muscle through his shoulders and arms. Merlin was thin boned and lithe. It was comical even, to let Arthur roll the sleeves a little bit for him.

But the jumper was made of wool, and it was heavy, and he had the absurd thought that sitting cross-legged on his couch in Arthur's sweater, might have been the first time he'd ever actually been warm in his life.

When Arthur was done, he reached for his bag again and removed something else. Merlin wasn't sure what it was until Arthur stood and let it fall open. A blanket.

"You know," Merlin said, hearing his accent and not bothering to set his speech straight. "I'm not exactly hard up for blankets around here."

Arthur lowered the edge of the blanket so he could raise an eyebrow at Merlin.

"I'm aware," he said with a smile. "That's why I brought you this."

Merlin frowned, and then Arthur draped it over him, and he understood. It was a weighted blanket. He made a small noise, involuntarily. Let Arthur lay him down and cover him. He closed his eyes.

"Will you be alright here, if I make some tea?" Arthur whispered.

Merlin nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Arthur kissed his temple and stood to go to the kitchen.

"How did you know?" Merlin croaked after a few minutes of water running and tins being opened and the sound of the electric kettle boiling up.

Arthur was standing by the far counter, removing some mugs from one of the overhead cabinets - he was in jeans, a collared shirt and a rich chestnut colored jumper. He turned to look at Merlin over his shoulder as he answered. Hesitated.

"You have three blankets on your bed, and there are two at Excalibur. You're more comfortable in one of the heavy bathrobes at the end of a long scene. And Gwen told me you sleep a lot, after a bad one."

Merlin frowned. He wanted to be angry that Gwen and Arthur had discussed this, but he knew when it must have happened. He knew it wasn't a betrayal. But it still hurt.

Arthur turned back to the cupboards.

"And," he added, maybe a little awkwardly. "I prefer it, myself."

Merlin blinked. Pulled his nose a little higher out of the blanket to see Arthur better.

"You do?"

Arthur carried the tea back into the living room, snorted a laugh and set the mugs down on the coffee table.

"I'm not a machine, Merlin," he said affectionately. "I do feel things, occasionally."

Then he tilted his head, turned to sit on the edge of the couch.

"Alright, up with you for a second. Try to drink some of this."

Merlin did as he was told, and Arthur settled down against the arm of the couch when Merlin was finished. He bracketed Merlin with his legs, let Merlin curl up against his abdomen, and turned on the TV.

Merlin let Arthur settle the blanket over his shoulders again. Asked him if he wanted a pillow. Merlin shook his head. Watched Arthur in the reflection of the telly, sipping his tea, running a hand absently through Merlin's hair. Watching reruns of Dr. Who.

For the first time in days, Merlin felt himself relax. He wasn't alone, that was the best part, and the blanket was heavy and warm, and that was good too. He couldn't remember the last time he had watched anything on the telly. Or used his couch really. Mostly he worked or slept. It was a nice couch, he thought. He should try to do this more often.

He must have dozed off, because when he woke it was still dark, and another episode of Dr. Who was on. He was still hazy around the edges when he realized Arthur was on the couch with him. He didn't panic this time, but a small twinge of discomfort crawled over his skin. Was this unhealthy? It was probably dangerous, either way.

He propped his chin up on the back of his hand and just watched Arthur sleeping for a moment. Wondered at how very different he looked in jeans and a jumper instead of his well tailored suits. He enjoyed both of these Arthurs. But he thought if he had to choose one, he'd pick the one with jumpers and glasses.

He shifted a little, patting Arthur on the chest. Rubbing there.

"Arthur?"

A hand came up to his eyes. Head dropped back over the arm of the couch. A groan.

"Arthur wake up a minute, your contacts."

Arthur blinked himself awake, ran a hand through his hair and looked around, as if he too were momentarily uncertain of his surroundings.

"What?" He said quietly, turning to look at Merlin. He brushed aside some of Merlin's black curls. Merlin smiled at him.

"Your contacts," he said. "You should take them out."

Arthur nodded, ran a hand over his face again.

"Okay, okay I'm up."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Merlin laughed. Arthur grinned. Slowly slid out from under Merlin.

"How are you feeling?" He said, crouching down by his bag. He set his contact case on the coffee table and sat down, apparently deciding the short walk to the sink was too far. Merlin watched him, head resting on his arms.

"Better, thank you."

Arthur slid on his wire framed glasses, turned to look Merlin over from the floor.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked tentatively. Merlin considered the question. Decided on a hedge.

"Talk about what?"

He couldn't really be angry that Arthur wanted to pry a little in this case. He'd dropped after an intense scene and called Arthur over to his house (for the second time) to keep him company through it. After, he reminded himself, he'd yelled to God and Country in the middle of the street about how Arthur was paying him to be fucked.

No, he couldn't muster up any righteous indignation for this particular situation.

"Why you wanted to play so hard tonight, maybe? Or what you were feeling after we were finished? Whatever you like."

Merlin hadn't really been expecting him to mention the scene. It wasn't so unusual for them to play hard and fast. Although tonight had felt different. More intense somehow. He thought about it, and perhaps still feeling vulnerable, or half asleep, or any number of excuses, he said quietly.

"Do you mind if we go to the bedroom?"

Arthur studied him, trying to decide if Merlin was giving him an excuse or if this was something else.

"Of course," he said, standing. Reached down and offered Merlin his hand. Merlin let himself be pulled to his feet, still holding the weighted blanket around himself. It was perfect.

Arthur turned off the telly, set the mugs in the sink and filled a glass with water before following Merlin into his bedroom. It was a complete disaster, and Merlin wasn't embarrassed by it in the least. He knew where everything in the room was, and frankly that was all he cared about. He made sure to pull the blackout curtains closed, and let Arthur spread the weighted blanket over the bed, before Merlin got in. Arthur hesitated, and Merlin paused, glancing up at him curiously.

"You alright?"

Arthur smiled a little sheepishly, Merlin thought.

"I didn't bring anything to sleep in," he said. "I didn't want to assume."

Merlin was so oddly touched by this, that he didn't immediately respond. Before he could, Arthur pulled his jumper over his head, careful of his glasses, and set it over the back of Merlin's desk chair before he began unbuttoning the collared shirt underneath. It was a gingham pattern, in blue and grey.

"Yes, I should be absolutely scandalized to see you in your boxers," Merlin said finally, affecting Arthur's posh accent. "What would the neighbors say?"

Arthur laughed so hard, he had to bend at the waist a little. Merlin, ridiculously pleased with himself, just watched Arthur laughing, and grinned.

"Was that supposed to be me, then?" He asked when he could once again finish unbuttoning his shirt. Merlin shrugged.

"Funny how it was the first thought to come to your mind."

Arthur threw his shirt at him. It hit Merlin in the face.

Once they were settled in Merlin's bed, and Merlin had appropriated most of Arthur's exposed skin for body heat (which was fine with Arthur as it was still a little chilly and he didn't mind having Merlin draped over him like a contented house cat), Merlin started to speak.

"When I lived in Ireland, I was steady with a man I'd met through Excalibur's sister house, Avalon. He held a standing reservation for Saturdays, half nights, with me. And then eventually it was every other Saturday, and the rest of the week we would meet for coffee or a movie. Dinner."

Arthur kept his arm still around Merlin's shoulders. Watched the ceiling fan overhead turn.

"I didn't live with Gwen back then, she was seeing Lance and living with him. She hadn't really moved out, but she wasn't ever home. That was fine. Lance was good people and I more or less saw them both on the nights we all worked."

"Lance worked at Avalon too?" Arthur asked gently.

"He did Agravaine's job, for a while."

Arthur nodded. Pressed his cheek to Merlin's hair and waited for him to continue.

"His name was Sigan. We were together for three months before things changed. He wanted to talk about work all the time. He would assume if I was even a minute late coming or going, that I was seeing someone from Avalon behind his back. Or enjoying my work too much. He wanted me to tell him about the clients I liked. The ones I didn't. Especially the ones I didn't."

Here, Merlin paused to reach over him, snagged Arthur's glass of water and took a generous gulp before settling down again.

"Once he called Gwen and demanded my work schedule from her. Asked her to estimate the size of my clients for him. Asked her if she fucked me too or if she just liked to watch."

He said it so distantly, that Arthur almost didn't register the depravity of what he was hearing.

"She reported him. They cancelled any future appointments. But she couldn't reach me to tell me in time."

Arthur glowered at the ceiling. Willed himself not to interrupt.

"He was waiting for me at my apartment with flowers. Asked me if I was in the mood to play. He was feeling edgy. I knew something was wrong, but I agreed anyway. Sigan only played because I wanted it occasionally. He'd never come to me for that, at Avalon. I should have known, but it never occurred to me, that he would actually want to hurt me. Really hurt me."

Arthur couldn't help it. He tightened his hold on Merlin's shoulders.

"Gwen found me. It was lucky, I'm told. I'd been lying in the bed, blindfolded and yelling for help for about two hours. Any longer and I would have lost too much blood. All of the neighbors testified later that they knew where I worked. So they didn't think anything of my yelling that day. They heard me. But nobody came."

Tentatively, Merlin reached for Arthur's hand, guided him to slide his fingers up under Merlin's shirts, fingertips tracing a deep scar from Merlin's hip to just above his naval. He didn't tell Arthur that Sigan had raped him after he'd done it. Or that he'd left the kitchen knife inside Merlin when he'd gone. That Merlin's screaming and thrashing had done more damage to his muscles over those two infinite hours than the initial blow. How Sigan had put his hands on the wound to force the blood out around the blade. How Merlin had passed out and how he couldn't be sure but he still had nightmares about Sigan taking him again when he was unconscious.

Arthur was very still against him. He waited a beat, and then continued quietly.

"He's been in prison for four years. There was a parole hearing this week. I went back to Ireland, to speak to the council."

"You had to see him again." It wasn't a question. Arthur understood now, what had happened, why Merlin had pushed him harder during their most recent scene at every turn. Why he had dropped afterward.

"Yes."

Arthur was also acutely aware then, why Merlin had been so stringently concerned about telling him any personal details of his life. Why he was so afraid to cross that line, even if Arthur wasn't asking for anything serious. Even if to Arthur, it was just a kind of intimate curiosity.

To Merlin, it was his life on the line again. It was a clear and present danger.

He thought of Gwen, in that space of a breath. About how Merlin didn't know who he was, not really. And he felt like a monster himself, for being so selfish. For wanting anonymity and never thinking that Merlin would want the same. Would need it to feel safe.

"Merlin," he said carefully, quietly. He wanted to say so many things, but none of them seemed right in his head. He knew there was no space for pity here. Merlin wasn't telling him these things for sympathy. He was crossing a line. And there was real trust in that, trust Arthur didn't feel that he deserved. Wasn't sure if he ever would.

"Have I ever made you feel unsafe?"

Merlin didn't answer him right away, and Arthur had to close his eyes.

"No," he said it slowly, and it wasn't a comfort, as though he weren't entirely sure.

"Would you tell me, if I did?"

"What would you do, if I told you I felt that way with you?"

It was Arthur's turn to pause, to think his answer over carefully.

"I would do everything I could," he said at last. "To make you feel safe again. Even if it meant cancelling my reservation with you."

Merlin absorbed this answer, his cheek pressed to Arthur's chest, memorizing the pattern of his breathing.

"I don't know anything about you," he said. The truth of the statement struck them both in the moment, and there was silence again.

"What would you like to know?" Arthur asked, surprised that he wasn't afraid.

"You told me once you had a half sister. Do you have any other siblings?"

"No," Arthur said, tracing patterns on the back of Merlin's neck. "My mother died when she had me. My father never remarried. I suppose, if you count Morganna's half sister, Morgause, I have another sister. But she's Morganna's sister by her mother, and not related to me directly. I don't know her very well."

Merlin shifted into a more comfortable place. Began copying the patterns Arthur was tracing on his neck, on Arthur's bare chest.

"Do you live alone, then?"

"Yes. Have done since I was sixteen."

"And your father?"

"He passed away this year."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said softly. Arthur sighed, took off his glasses and set them on the side table.

"He was a difficult man to love. At least it seemed that way, when he was alive. Now I'm not so sure if I was just being stubborn."

Sensing perhaps, that this wasn't really a conversation Arthur wanted to entertain just now, Merlin asked another question.

"Do you have any pets?"

"I have a horse."

"Of course you do," Merlin muttered into his skin. Arthur laughed, surprised.

"What does that mean?"

"Just when you couldn't be any more of a prat," Merlin told him agreeably. "You go ahead and manage it somehow."

Arthur laughed again, a real, hearty laugh. He hadn't laughed so well in a long time.

"Well what sort of pets should I have?"

"I don't know," Merlin said indulgently. "A dog. A cat. A fish...I could go on."

"Alright," Arthur said around another laugh, ruffling Merlin's hair.

"Favorite color?" Merlin said.

"Red, I think? I've never given it much thought. You?"

"Blue," Merlin said at once.

"Merlin?" Arthur said. He was about to say something, about his family name, perhaps, his business. But the rest of it died on his lips.

_"He won't ask, and I won't tell him."_

"Hmm?" Merlin prompted, glancing up at him from under his curls.

"I just...wanted to tell you, that I think it was very brave of you, to tell me about Sigan. I admire you, for that. I wish...I had that kind of bravery."

Merlin was silent for so long that Arthur was worried that he had managed to offend him.

"What are you afraid of, Arthur?" Merlin whispered.

Arthur closed his eyes. Tried to imagine a way in which he could just come out and say it. But the more he thought about it, the more wildly egotistical it seemed. It probably didn't matter, would Merlin even recognize the name? And if he did would he know from where?

And that all just seemed insulting, and Arthur wasn't entirely sure which was worse.

"I want to tell you something, but I'm not sure how to do it."

He immediately recognized this was the wrong way to start this conversation. Merlin was tense under his hands, had stilled his idly tracing fingers.

"You don't have to tell me anything," he said. The wariness stung Arthur.

"I know," he said emphatically. "I know."

"Why do you want to tell me?" Merlin asked him gently. "Whatever it is?"

"I just..."

_I just want someone to know, and still treat me like anyone else. I want someone to see me._

"...want to." He finished, so quietly, he wasn't sure Merlin had heard him.

"It doesn't sound like you're sure, Arthur."

"Pendragon," he said before he could stop himself. "Arthur Pendragon."

The silence that fell after he'd spoken, was deafening. Merlin was very, very still against him.

"Your father was..." Merlin trailed off, a little stunned.

"Uther."

"You said you were a business owner."

"I am."

Again, that terrible silence. Arthur had very little occasion to believe he'd made an irrevocably bad decision in his life. This, was one of those rare times. It was like breaking a tooth or cutting off part of a finger. Losing an eye. It was the moment when the realization dawns that nothing from this point forward, will ever be the same again. And if you had just given it a little more thought before you acted, you could have changed it. Things might have turned out differently.

Maybe.

Merlin was aware that he should say something, but he wasn't sure of what to say. He was thinking of how Arthur never referred to anyone as his friend, how Gwaine addressed him. How lost he had looked when Merlin came to him the night he'd messed up his reservation. How lonely he admitted he was.

Merlin didn't follow much, news, or reviews of any sort, really. But everyone had been aware, even him, however obliquely, when Uther Pendragon had died. Left his only son his empire and his fortune.

The enormity of it, scared Merlin. This was a person who could destroy him, if he wanted to. If he ever offended or dissatisfied him. But in his heart Merlin knew Arthur wasn't that kind of person. He thought about Arthur's glasses, about his laugh and his concerns. How careful he was with him. How always afraid he was. For all that, it took Merlin a bit too long to regain his balance.

"Well," Merlin said, still a little shaken. "I always knew you were a prat. I just didn't know you were a royal one."

Arthur barked out a laugh, he was so relieved. He laughed so hard he felt tears at the corners of his eyes. And Merlin laughed with him, and that was good too. The spell was broken, all the tension bleeding out of the air at once.

"For god's sake Merlin," he said around a fit of laughs. "I'm not royalty."

"May as well be," Merlin countered, covering his eyes as he laughed. "You own a horse."

And that, made Arthur laugh even harder.

"Does Gwaine know you own a horse?" Merlin asked, still a little breathless.

"Yes of course," Arthur said, calming a bit.

"I bet he has some good stories about you and your horse."

Arthur snorted. Drew Merlin close.

"I expect that he does. If you're looking to get a head start on next Thursday, feel free to ask him."

Merlin was astonished to feel his skin growing hot at the suggestion. Arthur looked down at him, curious for a moment, and then abruptly he seemed to understand.

"Oh Merlin," he said low in his ear, making him shiver. "That's a game you don't want to play."

"What sort of games do you think I like, then?" Merlin asked him, feeling bold.

He shifted, pressed his knee between Arthur's legs.

Arthur grinned, and the sight of it made Merlin weak. "Do you want to play a game, love?"

Arthur's hand was on his hip, searing him through his joggers.

"What do I get if I win?" He quipped, his muscles flexing under Arthur's palm.

"I'll tell you about the first time I ever jumped a horse. And the first time Gwaine ever fell off of one."

Merlin, was instantly intrigued.

"How do I win?"

Arthur rolled him, their faces inches apart, and Merlin felt his skin ignite with anticipation. Slowly Arthur took his wrists and lifted them over his head. Pressed them back into the pillows.

"Keep your hands here, and don't move. The rules are very simple. All you have to do, is come."

Merlin blinked.

"That's it?"

"That's it. Still want to play?"

Merlin closed the gap between them by way of an answer. Lifted his knee between Arthur's legs to force him higher. Pressed their lips together without moving his hands. Arthur moaned into his mouth and Merlin was exultant.

Then, Arthur forced his knee down. Spread his thighs. Stroked him through his sweatpants.

The sensation of it went ringing across Merlin's skin. He jolted, flexing his hips up to meet Arthur's hand, looking for more friction. Arthur obliged him. Palmed and stroked him until Merlin was straining through his boxers, his pants. Merlin was panting a little now, and without realizing it he'd bent his knees. Dug his heels into the mattress. Arthur continued, maddeningly, and Merlin realized with a pitiful sound in the back of his throat, what Arthur meant to do.

Arthur smiled against his skin, pressing soft kisses to Merlin's neck and the shell of his ear. He stroked Merlin harder, and it was maddening, the slide of fabric over his erection. He would go crazy, if Arthur didn't touch him properly. He let out a whine, tossed his head. Twisted his hands into the pillows above him and pressed himself harder into Arthur's hand. It wasn't enough.

"Arthur," Merlin moaned, turning his face into his arm. Arthur chuckled. Started sliding further down until he was laying between Merlin's bent knees. Arthur pressed his thighs open, forced his legs back down to the bed.

Arthur pressed his mouth to Merlin's aching length. And Merlin bucked in surprise, as Arthur mouthed him through his sweatpants, his boxers. He sucked hard, nuzzled the base of him. Forced his legs wider until Merlin felt the burn of it in his hips. Merlin arched, strained to flex his hips, his thighs. He groaned, frustrated, feeling hot and desperate.

"Arthur, I..."

He stopped himself. He didn't want to admit that he couldn't do it. But the ache of it was so slow and hot, he mourned that he wouldn't feel anything more than this ever again. He wasn't sure he could bear it.

Arthur lifted his head, stroked Merlin with his hands as he spoke.

"You're not giving up, are you Merlin?"

Merlin groaned, rocked into Arthur's hand.

"Please," he hissed. "It isn't enough, I need..."

He trailed off, his chest heaving. Arthur took hold of him, firmly, pumping hard. And Merlin's back bowed in surprise, his lips parting. It wasn't what he wanted, but he could feel it now, the heat pooling in his belly, and he thrust back hard into Arthur's hand. The friction of his pants, his boxers was starting to burn, and for a few long, exquisite moments, it was exactly what he needed.

But he couldn't quite get there before the burn became pain, and there was little pleasure behind it. He strained against Arthur's hand, lost all sense of how long they had been at it, and finally cried mercy, because he needed to come, badly, and he couldn't do it this way.

"I can't," he gasped, arching his neck. "I can't Arthur, please."

Arthur kept stroking him, hard, and he twisted his hips, clenching his fists in the pillows and gritted his teeth.

"You win!" He groaned. "You win, please!"

Arthur smiled, slowed his hand.

"Lift your hips for me, love," he said quietly. Merlin let out a grateful sob, lifted his hips so Arthur could pull his pants and boxers off.

When his pants came free, Merlin fell back against the mattress, panted softly at the ceiling. Felt his muscles twitching pleasantly as Arthur stroked his thighs.

When Arthur took him in his mouth, the shock of it ricocheted up Merlin's spine.

"Fuck!" He cried, his legs falling open involuntarily under Arthur's mouth, his hands. He'd already lost, so he felt no shame in begging for more.

"Harder! God, please, I'm so close!"

His abdomen ached, his muscles tightening, and Arthur sucked him harder, hummed against his overheated flesh. Merlin moaned in earnest, rocking into Arthur's throat, his body beginning to lock in a delicious, straining arch.

Arthur flattened his tongue on the underside of Merlin's cock, and Merlin pressed his own knees open wider, and Arthur felt him, and took him deeper, slipped a warm palm against the inside Merlin's trembling thigh and pinned him to the mattress when Merlin cried out.

"Wait!" He rapt, obscenely, clutching at the pillows. "Inside! Arthur!"

Arthur pulled off him, and it was nearly too much. Merlin twisted, holding himself back, and ached as Arthur waited, pulling himself up to his knees.

Merlin moaned and panted as Arthur pulled off his boxers, and finally, finally Merlin could feel their hot skin together, and his eyes rolled back in his head as Arthur positioned himself at Merlin's entrance.

He was rambling at Arthur, and the man pushed inside him, bent his knees over strong shoulders and fucked him into the mattress hard. He gasped out strained pleas, whispered encouragements, his volume rising with Arthur's heaving breath against his neck. He wanted to touch, but kept his hands where he had been told, and cried out, rocking his hips up, meeting Arthur thrust for thrust and begging for more until with a snapping of steel cord in his belly, he came. Diamonds cascaded down his abdomen and sparkled against all his tense muscles, and Arthur continued into him, and the slide of it made him cry out again, and again, riding the sensation until Arthur came with a muted cry pressed to the inside of his teeth, and warmth flooded them both for one holy second.

They lay together, panting, and Merlin's head lolled to the side, his fingers loosening on the pillows over his head. Arthur kept him there, bent with his knees over Arthur's shoulders, heels pressed into his strong back. They just breathed for a moment, and Merlin was aware that he was still moaning quietly, his parted lips open to the wall. Arthur ran his hands over his thighs. Helped him slowly lower his legs so Arthur could slide out of him, and Merlin shuddered, his arms still stretched over his head.

Arthur came up between his legs, held himself over Merlin's shaking body, his blonde hair sweat damp, his eyes a little unfocused.

"You were very good," Arthur murmured. "To keep your hands where you were told."

Merlin preened at the words, felt a flush starting along his neck and jaw. He felt like he was made of gold, and every nerve ending in his body hummed at the praise.

Arthur bent to kiss his neck, the sensitive place behind his ear, and he let his arms drape the powerful shoulders and guided Arthur up further, to kiss him.

Arthur took his mouth the way he had drawn the climax from Merlin, deeply and passionately, giving Merlin every answer that he craved. Letting Merlin pull a moan from his lips, card his long fingers through his blonde hair. Trace the skin of his neck and his spine with lazy, contented motions. Scratching delicately with his nails.

"Say it again," Merlin breathed against his lips, stealing another kiss. Arthur smiled and opened his mouth to Merlin before pulling back long enough to say,

"You were so good for me, Merlin."

Merlin moaned, outside himself. Cupped the back of Arthur's head and deepened the kiss again.

They took their time, disentangling themselves, and Arthur helped him to his feet so they could enter the little shower together.

Standing under the water, Arthur held him, running fingers over the bruises he'd left from their scene at Excalibur, the welts that were turning into deeper, red lines all along his skin. They washed, and Merlin felt like he was awake, really awake, for the first time in a very long time. Maybe, for the first time, ever.

"I've been riding for most of my life," Arthur told him, unprompted. He was running his hands over Merlin's ribs, his waist, as Merlin washed his hair.

"But I didn't jump a horse until after I'd met Gwaine, at Uni. He was an accomplished rider, and we went out to work the horses a bit and Gwaine offered me the reigns of a chestnut stallion, named Buddy."

Merlin tilted his head back as he listened, rinsed out his hair until he could no longer hear the crackle of the water and soap against the tile.

"I didn't know Buddy, but Gwaine was familiar with all the horses in the stable, and he knew that Buddy was a submissive creature, and would follow the horse Gwaine chose, Black Jack, a black stallion that stood nearly 17 hands high, even against the direction of his rider."

Merlin turned, wrapped his arms around Arthur's chest and they switched places, as he continued the story.

"Black Jack was a temperamental horse, who liked to go his own way, and Gwaine took us up to the top of a hill overseeing a wide field that stretched for miles. It was beautiful. And before I could do anything to stop it, Gwaine set Black Jack at a full gallop, head down the hill."

Arthur paused to tilt his head back, letting the water soak him. Merlin pressed up close to his back, keeping the warmth of the water trapped between them.

"He had intended to startle me, I think. Have a bit of fun. But Black Jack wasn't having it. He swerved sharply, and bucked hard, and Gwaine went tumbling right over his neck and crashed into a hedgerow as we passed him. I tried to get Buddy to turn, but he was following Black Jack, and he wouldn't budge."

Merlin pressed his lips to Arthur's shoulder, closed his eyes and relished the taste of skin and water. Imagined the riderless black horse and Arthur on the chestnut stallion, close behind.

"There was a small stand of shrub bushes at the base of the hill leading into the valley. Black Jack took it at a soaring leap. I was so moved by it, I almost forgot to stand in the saddle when I realized what was about to happen."

"Buddy followed him over the hedge," Merlin guessed. Arthur chuckled.

"He did. I stood it badly though, leaned so far forward that Buddy struck me in the face when his head came back. By the time I made it back to Gwaine, I'd pulled a muscle in my groin, and I'd gotten a bloody nose for all the trouble. Gwaine was laughing. He couldn't manage to sit himself up, he was laughing so hard. I left him in the hedge with Black Jack and went back to the stables on my own."

Merlin reached around Arthur, turned off the taps and shivered when the water stopped.

"Did you get him back for it?" Merlin asked conspiratorially. Arthur took the proffered towel from him with a smile.

"We've been trading blows after that particular incident going on fourteen years now."

"How did he become your head of security?" Merlin asked, the towel around his waist as he pulled Arthur's jumper back over his head.

"That," he said a little somberly. "Is a very long story. Maybe if you're good, I'll tell you on Thursday."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Merlin realized he should be more concerned about how easy it was to lean into Arthur. How quickly he had come to trust him. They got back into Merlin's bed, tangled up in each other, and he felt light and warm and comfortable in his own skin. He was surprised to find that there was never a moment he'd thought to compare Arthur to Sigan. That his admission, while initially shocking, meant very little to Merlin. And anyway it wasn't like he and Arthur were in a relationship. This, whatever this was, would fade over time as it always did with his higher profile clients. So for now, he would take everything he could. He would pretend for a little while at least, that he and Arthur weren't meant to end in tragedy.


	8. Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur leans on his black card privileges to bring Gwaine to Excalibur to keep an eye on Agravaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my all time favorite chapters. I hope you enjoy it 💋

* * *

The next Thursday, Arthur brought Gwaine with him, to stand at the door, with Agravaine.

He thought it would be strange, or awkward when he asked. Gwaine was nonplussed. It seemed to Arthur like he might have been waiting for the invitation, even, after that last phone call with Merlin.

_"Agravaine wishes someone would hurt me."_

Gwaine had stopped his usual raucous banter immediately. Arthur felt the hair on the backs of his arms rise.

He thought it would be a problem, also. It wasn't as though you could bring a guest to your appointments with your escort. But Merlin had told him once that the black card he held made him one of the highest spenders in the club. He could ask for anything within reason, and he would get it.

He wasn't in the habit of leaning on status like that. But if he were ever going to, it seemed to him like now would be one of those times.

Gwen only had a little trouble setting it up for him. It was an unusual request, and there were background checks submitted. But they got it done in the end. Agravaine was livid.

He didn't speak when Arthur followed him up to the elevator, Gwaine at his shoulder. And when they came to the door at the end of the hall, Agravaine said curtly.

"I'll be at the other end."

And walked back to the elevators. Gwaine raised his eyebrows at Arthur discreetly, then took up a position by the door.

"Sweet old chap, isn't he?" Gwaine muttered under his breath. Arthur snorted as he entered the room.

Merlin was texting furiously, and barely noticed him when he entered. He was frowning deeply, his thumbs flying over the screen of his phone. When the door closed, he looked up, blew out a breath and turned halfway back to the phone, typing again.

"Sorry," he said. His accent was very prominent just then. Arthur studied him while he removed his coat.

"Take your time," Arthur said. He meant it. Whatever was happening, it seemed important.

Merlin sighed. Waited for a response to his last message, then sent another one before stuffing his phone in his beanie, and then into the sleeve of his flannel.

"Sorry," he said again. Arthur came up behind him, wrapped him in his arms.

"Everything okay?"

Merlin was in a pair of dark, greyed jeans that hugged the hard muscled curves of his thighs, and a pair of biker boots with more buckles than Arthur would have thought was necessary for a pair shoes. He had on a red t-shirt that fit him snuggly, and a dark leather bracelet on his left wrist. Arthur liked it.

"Yeah, no. It's fine. Just a bit distracted is all, I'll get changed."

He started to pull away, his accent making his words deeper, and Arthur pulled him back, running a hand up under Merlin's shirt. Merlin covered his hand with his, leaned back into Arthur's shoulder.

"Why would you change?" Arthur said low in his ear. Merlin smiled, turning to face him with a cheeky grin.

"It's the boots, I bet."

Arthur stared at him flatly for nearly a full minute. Merlin was still grinning when Arthur snorted, looked away.

"Come here, you idiot," Arthur said affectionately, and Merlin let himself be folded into another hug.

"Did you bring Gwaine with you?" He asked.

Arthur pulled back to look at him.

"I did."

"Gwen told me," he said. "Do you mind?"

"That Gwen informed you of any changes to your regular appointments? No," Arthur said. "No of course I don't mind."

Merlin squeezed Arthur around the middle, and then with a mischievous grin, backed up toward the door.

Arthur crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow.

Merlin leaned out of the door, and Arthur was relieved at the jovial exchange between the two. He poured himself a glass of water, ridiculously touched by their camaraderie, until he caught the phrase, "knocked the wind out of him" and Merlin's surprised laugh.

Arthur stalked across the room, and taking hold of Merlin's belt, pulled him back inside. Merlin came with a startled yelp, and Gwaine waved cheerfully at both of them as the door swung shut.

"Maybe," Arthur said agreeably, dragging Merlin behind him by the hem of his pants. "I should stand outside the door, and invite Gwaine inside so you two can get better acquainted."

Merlin was laughing breathlessly, letting himself be tugged along backwards, stumbling a bit when they hit the rug in front of the bed. The buckles on his boots tinkled softly as Arthur let him go.

"I'm sorry," he said with a little laugh still. "I was only being polite."

Arthur circled him to sit on the bed, leaving Merlin to stand in front of him while he removed his business coat and set it on the bed beside him. He appraised Merlin, standing straight backed, but leaning into one of his hips, his black curls disheveled and his glacial blue eyes grinning brazenly.

"I like this look," Arthur said absently.

Boldly, Merlin approached, his smile becoming almost predatory as he draped his long legs over Arthur's, and sat down in his lap. He held onto Arthur's shoulder, the back of his neck, and Arthur was reminded again of the difference in their height. He had to lean his head back a bit, just admiring Merlin.

"Yeah?" He said. "You don't prefer the brown suede?"

Arthur pressed his hands up the back of Merlin's shirt, warming the pale skin with his palms, making Merlin arch delicately toward him.

"I think it's probably the boots," Arthur said with a grin. Merlin laughed, fingering one of the buttons on Arthur's collar.

"You look very sharp tonight," he said. He let out a surprised moan when Arthur hooked him under the knees and pulled, seating their hips together.

It was true, he did. His suits were always expertly tailored, but today he was wearing a three piece navy suit with a gold tie and a pair of smart brown oxfords. Merlin took one of Arthur's hands, ran his thumb over Arthur's forefinger.

"You're not wearing your ring," he said. Arthur huffed in surprise, leaned back to reach into one of his pockets. He pulled the ring free and held it up for Merlin.

It was a broad, hammered silver band with braided cords of gold and copper around the center. Merlin took it, looking it over.

Arthur settled his hands at Merlin's waist, smiled a little to himself.

"I have a tendency to spin it," Arthur explained. "When I'm agitated. It's not a good look, in a board meeting."

Merlin lifted his eyes, took in the tiredness in Arthur's expression a little more carefully. How neatly pressed his collar and his tie were.

"Was it a long day for you?" Merlin asked sympathetically. He took Arthur's hand, slid the ring back onto his forefinger.

"Yes," Arthur admitted, pressing the word out through his teeth.

Merlin considered him, ran his hands through Arthur's hair.

"You still haven't been able to get a hold of Bedivere?"

Arthur looked at him sharply. Merlin arched an eyebrow.

"I do listen to you, you know, when you're telling me about your day when I drop. I'm not unconscious."

Arthur looked away, and Merlin was concerned by the brooding temper he saw there. It was a soft, resigned kind of irritation. But he had never seen Arthur look that way before. Then Arthur turned his smile on him, reached up unexpectedly to run his thumb along Merlin's bottom lip.

"What were you talking about, with Gwaine?"

Arthur was well aware what they had been discussing - he'd heard the story often enough himself. Merlin eyed him, uncertain where this was going.

"Football," he said carefully.

Arthur nodded, traced his fingers down Merlin's neck. His other hand trailed up Merlin's arm, sliding fingertips under the cuff of his shirt sleeve. Merlin tipped his head back, closed his eyes.

"What team?" Arthur asked innocently.

Merlin's eyes came open slowly, and Arthur could practically see the gears beginning to turn in his head.

"Before you get angry," Merlin said. "I didn't ask him to tell me."

Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin's bicep, pressing fingers into the healing bruise he'd left with his teeth there. Merlin moaned clenching his fist and turned his head away.

"Why would I get angry if you were just talking about football, love?"

Merlin lowered his head, nuzzled Arthur's neck. Arthur allowed it, ran a hand soothingly down his bent spine.

"Gwaine told me that you got the wind knocked out of you doing a wheel kick on the field."

Arthur nodded as if he understood. Relished the way Merlin's shoulders were beginning to cave in anticipation.

"And how did you respond?" Arthur asked. Merlin shrank against him. Arthur forced him to sit back, to look at him when he said it.

Merlin put his hands on Arthur's chest, and although he kept his eyes down, his tone of voice seemed to say, 'and it was the funniest shit I've heard in my life.'

"I laughed."

Arthur trapped Merlin's wrists in his hands, kept Merlin's hands pressed to his chest as he spoke.

"Do you enjoy embarrassing me, Emrys?"

At the sound of his scene name, Merlin closed his eyes. Shuddered. He shook his head.

"Answer me, Emrys, or I'll tie you up and bring Gwaine in here to tell you more stories about me while I suck you off."

Merlin jerked back in surprise, his wrists twisting in Arthur's iron grip. In truth, Arthur would never do any such thing, not with anyone, but especially not a friend he respected, like Gwaine. But now that he'd been able to get to know Merlin a little better, he was starting to understand that what he thought was an aversion to humiliation, was a little more specific than that. Merlin had no desire to be degraded. But the idea of him being in compromising situations was arousing to him. The idea of semi-public or public compromising situations? Those made Merlin hot in less than thirty seconds.

"No, no, please," he said breathlessly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Arthur, really."

"That's the second time," Arthur mused. "That you've asked if Gwaine had any interesting stories about me. First it was the horse - "

Without thinking, Merlin snorted, fisting his hands in Arthur's suit vest to support his laugh.

Arthur stood abruptly, and Merlin cried out when he went tumbling backwards toward the floor. Arthur caught him by the arms and steadied him on his feet.

"Center of the room, undress."

Arthur watched as Merlin's pupils dilated.

"But -"

The look Arthur gave him stopped the protest in his throat. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, then back to Arthur.

"You have three seconds," Arthur warned against Merlin's parted lips.

Merlin jerked back, moved himself to stand under the hard-point in the ceiling. While he pulled his shirt over his head, Arthur selected a few things from the cabinet.

"Did you do as I asked?" Arthur said as he returned. Merlin was already flushed to his neck, so Arthur believed him when he gave a shy nod. It had been an impulse to text Merlin. Ask him if he was comfortable with a small request after leaving him on Friday morning.

Merlin was still in his boxers. Arthur slid his hand down the front of them, cupped Merlin's already straining erection, his heavy balls in one hand.

Merlin bucked into his palm with a cry, his hands coming up to grip Arthur's shoulders. His neck.

"Yes," Arthur murmured, pressing up against the pale body. Stroked him long and slow. "I rather think you did."

Merlin panted into his neck, and Arthur felt the bite of his nails against his collar.

"It's a shame you were more concerned about embarrassing me."

When he slipped the cock ring on him, Merlin pulled back with a cry.

"Wait-!"

Arthur pulled him back by his hair, forced him down to his knees. Merlin whimpered, coming down hard on the rug.

"Wait?" Arthur hissed dangerously. "Like you made me wait while you were..."

He was about to say 'flirting' with Gwaine, but some instinct told him not to use that word. Not to associate their time together with jealousy, of any kind. Even if it was only for the sake of the scene. Even if Gwaine would never be involved in anything they did beyond words. His brain shifted gears immediately. Substituting the word with barely a hesitation.

"Wasting time, laughing at me?"

Merlin whimpered again, leaning his head back to accommodate the grip Arthur had on his hair.

"I didn't mean anything by it," he whispered again. "I'm sorry, please..."

Arthur let him go.

"Take off your boxers," he said coldly.

Merlin did as he was told, face burning, without rising from his knees. Arthur was so pleased, that he reached out, and cupped the back of Merlin's head, let him press his forehead to Arthur's thigh while he spoke. He carded his fingers through the black curls, pacing Merlin's breathing, letting him get himself back under control.

"Gwaine can't see you like this," Arthur said. He recognized Merlin's discordant breathing as a sign of nerves. He wanted to be very clear that his earlier threat was a bluff to startle Merlin, not a punishment he was actually entertaining. "Tonight it's you and me, love. No one else."

As expected, Merlin's shoulders came down, his breathing beginning to even out. Tentatively, he reached up, took hold of Arthur's calf to pull himself closer.

"May I speak?" He said quietly. Arthur felt heat pooling in the cradle of his hips at the request. He brushed at Merlin's hair tenderly.

"You may," he said.

"I'm sorry for making you wait," he said, words muted by Arthur's trousers. "I wait for Thursday all week."

Arthur had to close his eyes. Felt his heart hammer to a stop in his chest, skip to catch back up.

"So do I," he said. And it didn't feel like they were speaking about Excalibur. It didn't feel like they were playing, anymore.

Merlin heaved a breath against his thigh.

"But you did make me wait," Arthur said, adding a note of steel to his voice. He felt the shudder run through Merlin, reverberating up his leg.

"After all the waiting you've done this week, it honestly doesn't seem like it bothered you at all."

Merlin started to pull back, to look up at him, but Arthur tightened his hand in his hair again, forced him to keep his forehead against Arthur's thigh.

"Please," he mourned. "Please, no."

"I think you can wait a little longer, since it hasn't affected you in the least."

Merlin moaned, his head dropping to the inside of Arthur's knee.

"Lay on your stomach," Arthur said, surprised by the timbre of his own voice. Merlin hesitated for the briefest of moments and then did as Arthur asked.

Arthur started with a wrist tie, binding Merlin's wrists to his elbows, low to his back so he could incorporate a hip harness to it. The tie he had in mind for this, was a little more complicated, so as he began his ties on Merlin's upper thighs, he was methodical and talked it through.

"I'm going to lift you in a minute, Emrys," he said. Merlin groaned, rocking his hips back in response. "This won't be a full suspension, just an upline to take some of your weight."

As he spoke, he finished the harness, checked the knots, and began preparing the upline. He straddled Merlin's hips without touching him, as he tossed the rope through the silver ring overhead.

"Once your up I'm going to add another tie. If you need to come down, you'll have to give me a two minute warning."

Once the upline was prepared, Arthur took one of Merlin's hands, and wrapped one end of the line around his fingers so he could hold it.

"If you pull this, it will begin to unravel the first tie from your hips to your arms. It won't unravel the second, but you should be loose enough to pull your hands free and undo it yourself if you need to."

Merlin shuddered in a breath, nodded.

"Color, Emrys," Arthur commanded.

"Green," Merlin breathed. "Please, green."

Arthur smiled. Then he positioned himself, and pulled. Merlin's hips came off the floor. Not much. His knees could still comfortably take the weight of his body if he needed to. But there was no way for him to press his body entirely against the floor any longer. And the only way he could keep himself comfortable resting on his chest, would be to engage his core at all times. So when Arthur started the second tie by taking hold of Merlin's right ankle, the predicament began sinking in. Merlin made a noise of protest in the back of his throat, as Arthur tied first his right ankle and then the left to the upline, so that his knees were held wide, his hips high, his feet now above the ground. If Merlin wanted to, he could straighten his whole body, and the lines from his ankles to the hip harness would take his full weight and lift him completely off the floor. But if he did, the hip harness would begin digging into his thighs and his abdomen something fierce.

Arthur gave him a second to get used to the suspension. Kept a hand on the small of his back so that Merlin would know where he was at all times.

"Color, Emrys?"

"Green."

Arthur nodded to himself, then he took a seat where he was, behind Merlin and just between his legs. Ran his hands over the milky thighs.

Merlin shivered, his muscles jumping under Arthur's hands.

"What are you going to do with me?" Merlin asked in a plaintive voice.

Anticipation was one of Merlin's hot points. So Arthur considered not saying anything at all. But in the end he went with a cruel hedge.

"I haven't decided whether I should make you come until I'm satisfied, until you're begging me to stop. Or if I should come inside you and not let you come at all tonight."

Merlin bucked at the words alone, rocking in the ropes momentarily. Despite the cock ring, his crown was already red and shining with precome.

He was aching for it. Hadn't touched himself for the last 48 hours and Arthur was fairly certain that even with the cock ring, Merlin would come anyway, if the right buttons were pushed.

He reached between Merlin's legs, stroked his cock, massaged his balls. He did so slowly, until Merlin was flexing his hips, trembling in the ropes. He wasn't applying much of a rhythm, just sliding his hands into places he knew Merlin liked to be touched.

Merlin bucked, trying to drive his hips down, to either escape the methodical stroking, or press himself closer for more friction, but he could accomplish neither. Arthur smiled when Merlin's moaning became pitiful. When he had to suck in his breath. Began mewling out of the back of his throat.

Arthur let him go slowly, picked up the next item he had brought with him. Merlin was shaking already, his fists clenching and unclenching.

So when Arthur pressed the Hitachi to Merlin's balls and turned it on, he was not surprised by the shout he got in response.

"Fuck! Arthur please, it's too much! I...I...."

He trailed off into a guttural moan, when Arthur turned it up. His whole body was jerking in the ropes, attempting to get closer, or get away, it wasn't entirely clear.

Arthur turned it off.

Merlin sagged, panting out a high staccato whine. Arthur stroked Merlin's cock, massaging the veined underside and Merlin bucked and cried out.

"Please," he whimpered. "Please, Arthur."

"Please what?" Arthur asked. Before Merlin could answer, Arthur turned the vibrator on against the head of his cock.

Merlin thrashed, his chest coming off the floor momentarily, twisting his body as if he could get away. He wailed, Arthur holding his cock gently in his palm, running the vibrator along the tip of him, the underside of his crown. His shaft.

When Arthur stopped the vibrator this time, Merlin sobbed into the floor. His whole body shaking.

"Color Emrys?" He said, running his hand over a pale thigh. Merlin jerked, oversensitive, but relaxed under Arthur's fingers.

"Green," he moaned. Arthur smiled.

He pressed Merlin open. Popped the cap of the lube he held as loudly as he could, making Merlin jump.

Slowly, he slid a finder inside. Merlin groaned, tried to flex back. Arthur took hold of the harness at his waist to hold him still. Added a second finger. A third.

Crooked his fingers, searching. Merlin howled into the floor, and he was so loud, that Arthur was momentarily concerned that Agravaine had heard them down at the other end of the hall.

"If you do that again," Arthur said. "I'll gag you. Do you understand me?"

Merlin choked on his reply.

"I understand, Arthur, I'm sorry."

But Arthur had found the spot, and Merlin was dazed already, his body was a tremor in motion and there was no way for him to check the sound he made when Arthur began massaging him there. Stroking his aching cock.

"Fuck, Arthur! Please, anything but that, I'll do anything, I'm begging you please, please don't!"

He was writhing, Arthur's fingers sending lightning bolts of pleasure down his thighs, into his hips and the tip of his straining cock. But the cock ring held him off. Had been holding him off practically since he'd walked in the door.

He was begging Arthur not to make him come and ruin it, which was a possibility with the cock ring involved. He wanted to feel it.

"Anything?" Arthur mused, still massaging Merlin's prostate.

"Arthur! Please!"

Immediately, Arthur stopped, and Merlin bucked involuntarily. His whole body seizing up in an effort not to come. Arthur was proud of him. Before he stood, he massaged Merlin's lower back with his thumbs, kissed the shaking line of his spine. Merlin moaned gratefully. Went limp in the ties. Let Arthur take care of him. It made Arthur painfully hard.

He stood, holding onto the upline as he walked around Merlin, so he could feel the tension in the ropes. Know that Arthur hadn't walked away. Arthur had never actually confirmed with Merlin that he felt the same kind of anxiety he felt when blindfolded, if he wasn't being touched when his partners were out of his line of sight. But he didn't want to risk it. And there was something intimate and fulfilling to Arthur, to always be touching Merlin. To be touching him as much as humanly possible in the space of eight hours.

He settled down where Merlin had his forehead pressed into the floor, ran a hand along the back of Merlin's sweat damp neck, and between his heaving shoulder blades.

"Head up," he said. Merlin lifted his head and chest off the floor obediently, and Arthur was surprised to see he was already half gone. His eyes were blown and glassy. Arthur lifted a knee, let Merlin press his chest there to support himself, and tipped a water bottle to his lips. He drank slowly, eyes closed, lashes wet. Arthur let him rest there a minute after he was done, before he settled him back against the floor.

"You were very loud again, when I told you not to be," he said. Merlin turned his forehead into the ground. Twisted his wrists into the ties.

Arthur stood and took off his belt. Folded it in half, and picked Merlin's head up by his hair. Merlin cried out, the muscles in his neck straining. Arthur presented him with the belt.

"Bite down," he commanded. Merlin took the belt between his lips. Closed his eyes with a whine.

"Don't you dare drop it," Arthur said. "That belongs to me."

Merlin nodded, wincing at the pull on his hair. Arthur let him down, so he could put his cheek against the floor.

"Color, Emrys."

Merlin held up one finger. Arthur ran his hands along his back, humming in approval.

"You can be so good, Emrys. You almost make me forget how upset I am with you."

Merlin whimpered. Let his shoulders cave as much as he could.

Arthur stood, came back around Merlin with a roll of bondage tape. He took one of Merlin's thighs in his hands, and taped the Hitachi in place there, so that the head of it was pressed against the base of Merlin's cock, just below his balls. Then he took hold of the hip harness in one hand and pressed his tongue to Merlin's entrance.

Merlin choked on the belt. Whined as Arthur lapped at him. When Arthur turned on the vibrator, he had to brace himself for Merlin's jerking. Merlin keened into his gag. Strained wildly against the ropes. Arthur could feel him twisting his arms, and without lifting his face, he reached up with his free hand, and laced his fingers with Merlins.

Merlin held onto him for dear life. Sobbed wildly against the gag. Arthur slid his tongue inside him and Merlin came.

He screamed into the floor, his teeth bared against the gag, his neck and ears flushed. Arthur pulled back to watch him, but allowed Merlin to keep hold of his hand. His knuckles were blanched white between Arthur's fingers. His body bowed back, chest off the floor. And despite the cock ring, he came hard, his hips flexing in the rope ties.

Arthur waited, held Merlin in place as he started to realize that Arthur wasn't planning to turn off the vibrator. Merlin bucked. Tried to twist away. He was still keening into the gag. Arthur slapped him hard across the ass and Merlin rocked, his wet screaming turning to a guttural moan against Arthur's belt. Saliva smeared the floor under his cheek. He was gone, absolutely wrecked, the second time he came.

Arthur was quick to turn the vibrator off afterwards. He'd seen the way Merlin's eyes had rolled back in his head. The limp pliability of his body as everything turned to white noise.

He hadn't intended him to hit that wall just yet. He didn't like for Merlin to be up in a tie when he blanked out. He worked the cock ring off him first, and then came around to his front and propped his chest up on his knees again, smoothing back the black curls. Cupping his face with both hands.

"Let me have the belt back love," he murmured. "You can let go now, you were perfect."

Merlin let Arthur's belt fall from his mouth. The outline of his teeth imprinted in the expensive leather. Stained with his saliva. Arthur set it aside. Massaged the back of Merlin's head, his neck.

"You did so well for me, love. I'm going to let you down so I need you to stay with me for just a little bit longer. Can you do that for me?"

A nod. It would do.

"Okay, love. I'm going to lower you to the floor. Just a short drop."

Merlin gave a small noise of ascent, and Arthur released the upline. His hips came down slowly, but when his over sensitive cock came in contact with the rug, Merlin jerked his hips up with a shuddering cry.

"I know, you're fine. You can stay there for just a minute longer," Arthur encouraged, still running a hand through the sweat damp curls. Merlin trembled, but let his hips rest against the floor with sharp, pained motions. Arthur untied him quickly, before crouching down next to him. Merlin was lying on his stomach, his eyes tight closed, doing his very best not to move at all.

"Alright love, I have one more favor to ask. Turn over for me. Give me your arms."

Merlin did, slowly, hissing as he rolled over, and Arthur helped him wrap his shaking arms around his neck. Sliding his palms under Merlin's knees, and around his ribs, Arthur lifted him off the floor.

Anything would be a little painful on him right now, but he needed to clean him off. So he took Merlin into the shower and sat him down on the tiles. Merlin whimpered, the tiles inside the shower were cold, but Arthur got him under the water quickly enough. Let him put his back to the spray and rinse off.

When he was done, he was able to get him up to his feet and wrapped in a towel. Merlin's eyes were still blown, but there was some focus to them now. He smiled dreamily at Arthur. Just watched him while Arthur wiped the excess water from his cheeks. Patted his hair dry.

"What?" Arthur asked around a bemused smile. Merlin shook his head, but never lost that silly smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes, lifted Merlin easily once more, tossing him over his shoulder. Merlin yelped, huffed a laugh when Arthur tossed him back on the bed.

"How are you feeling, love?" Arthur asked quietly. Merlin curled up in his towel, turned over to face Arthur.

"M'good."

Arthur laughed.

"You were very good," he agreed. Merlin smiled wider.

"We aren't finished?" He asked suddenly.

Arthur barked out a laugh.

"If we're going by timing, no, I'm afraid you're stuck with me for at least four more hours," he said, smiling as he checked his watch. "But we don't have to keep playing."

Merlin appeared to be mulling this over, with a look that clearly expressed how unacceptable this statement was. Arthur felt like someone was inflating a balloon in his chest. He had to work to keep his smile down to a reasonable wattage.

"You were brilliant Merlin, but I took you a little farther than I meant to. I don't want to cause you any real pain."

"You won't," he said immediately. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"You won't," he said again, still curled up in his towel. "I want to..."

He trailed off, seemed to stop himself from completing the thought. Arthur leaned against the bedpost. Tilted his head.

"What do you want?"

Merlin hesitated again and then said, indignantly.

"I didn't wait 48 hours to get off on a vibrator. I want you to fuck me."

And then, in the wake of Arthur's shocked silence added,

"If you think I deserve it."

Arthur closed the distance between them slowly. Leaned over the bed, bracing his hands on either side of Merlin's flushed cheeks. Merlin stared up at him, pulling his knees a little closer to his body involuntarily.

"Do you think you deserve it, Emrys?" He said, his voice husky and low. Merlin shivered, his eyes shutting briefly.

"I think..." he swallowed, his eyes darting away from Arthur's and back again. "I think I can prove that I do...if you give me the chance."

Arthur hummed, nuzzled Merlin's still damp neck. It was a good answer. Arthur was already half hard again.

Merlin reached up, ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of Arthur's neck, letting Arthur just touch him and be touched in return. Breathing each other in.

"Please Arthur?" He whispered, after the silence had stretched between them. Arthur moaned softly.

"It seems only fair," Arthur murmured against his neck. "To give you a chance."

Merlin preened.

Arthur pulled himself upright, took a look around the room, reorganizing the night in his head. Merlin sat up on the bed carefully, patiently waiting for instruction.

"On your feet then, Emrys," Arthur said after a beat. "We're going to play a game. If you win, I'll give you everything you want. If you lose, I'll come how I want to and you'll have to wait until next time before you can have me inside of you again."

Merlin's glacial blue eyes had become luminous at the words. There was a predatory determination in that look that made Arthur want to come to his knees at Merlin's feet. To do everything Merlin asked of him.

He was still wrapped in his towel, and Arthur didn't want him getting cold, so he waited to position him. Explained the rules first.

"Pick a number between 10 and 60," he said.

Merlin gave it some thought. Said, "Thirty-seven."

Arthur grinned, and removed a set of thick, heavy rubber bands from his pocket. Merlin looked intrigued. By way of demonstration, Arthur rolled up the leg of his trousers, and snapped one of the rubber bands hard against his own calf. It left a searing red line across the skin there. Merlin's eyebrows shot into his hairline.

"I'm going to ask you a series of math questions. For every one you get wrong, I'll give you five of these," he traced the red line on his own calf. "For every one you get right, I'll give you one."

Merlin was watching him closely now, fully engaged. Arthur could already see the gears turning in that exceptional mind of his.

"If you make it to 37 stripes, with more right answers than wrong, you win. If you don't, I win."

Arthur gave Merlin a smirk, when the blue eyes narrowed. It didn't take someone with Merlin's brain to deduce that the game was in high favor to reaching 37 lashes by more wrong answers than right. But he was also, very very good at math, and Arthur wasn't. He was trying to factor in the statistical possibility that Arthur would be able to come up with a math problem that he couldn't answer, let alone four of them.

"Color, Emrys," Arthur said.

Merlin straightened his shoulders unconsciously.

"Green."

Arthur bent him over the leather ottoman that sat in front of the couch at the other end of the room. It was low enough to the ground that he could rest there on his knees, while keeping his chest pressed into the cushion.

"Hold your elbows," Arthur commanded. "Keep them right there, don't move them unless I tell you to."

Merlin did as he was asked. Shifted to find a good balance in his position, and finally relaxed into the ottoman. Arthur pulled his hips back. Ran his hands down the backs of Merlin's thighs.

Merlin, to Arthur's amazement, strangled down a lewd moan at his touch. He'd expected a little discomfort, after forcing Merlin to two orgasms in the space of twenty minutes. But he was starting to flush hot again, his cock twitching where it hung between his legs.

Arthur kissed the small of his back.

"First question, Emrys," he said. "What is the next number in the sequence? 1 11 21 1211 111221 312211."

Merlin shifted. Arthur saw the dip of his brows. The frown of his concentration.

"...am I allowed to ask you to repeat the sequence?"

Arthur tilted his head back and forth. Massaged Merlin's ass as he thought it over. Merlin bit his lip. Pressed his hips back into Arthur's hands.

"You can ask me to repeat a question once, per question."

Arthur repeated the sequence for him. Merlin smiled.

"13112221."

Arthur looped the rubber band around his thumb and forefinger. Snapped the rubberband hard against Merlin's ass. Merlin groaned, gripping his own elbows tighter.

"What is the smallest whole number that is equal to seven times the sum of its digits?"

"21," Merlin answered immediately.

They got through seven questions before Arthur managed one that Merlin couldn't answer. It was a long, complicated problem that Arthur had to pull up on his phone and show to Merlin to be sure he didn't say it incorrectly.

Merlin asked to see it one more time. Huffed when Arthur told him he was taking too long.

"It's a long problem," Merlin said.

"What does x equal?"

Merlin glared at him. Arthur snapped the rubber band five times across his shoulders.

Merlin moaned when Arthur ran a hand over the welts. They were fairly impressive. He would have to consider using rubber bands in their scenes more often.

"You're up to twelve," he said.

"x is an integer and 9 < x2 < 99\. What is the maximum value of x minus the minimum value of x?"

Merlin shifted. His lips moving as he worked it out. Arthur watched the second hand on his watch. When Merlin approached a minute, he started tapping his fingers on the small of Merlin's back impatiently. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut.

"Since x is an integer, its maximum value is x = 9 and its minimum value is x = -9..."

Arthur sighed dramatically.

"Time's up."

"Eighteen!" Merlin snapped. "It's eighteen!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"I said your time was up."

Merlin was looking at him expectantly over his shoulder, his eyes pleading for something. Arthur understood.

"You're right," he smirked. "The answer was 18."

Merlin closed his eyes. Arthur snapped the rubber band five more times across his shoulders. Merlin's skin was heating under Arthur's hands.

"Ten to seven," he said. He massaged Merlin's buttocks for a minute thinking. Merlin flexed his hips, pressed back into his hands with a groan.

"If you get the next question right," Arthur said. "I'll let you take the last twenty with a cane. If you can take all twenty, you win. If you can't, I win. Or we can keep going."

Merlin whimpered, his shoulders tightening already. Arthur bit him gently on the outside of his thigh, making him jump.

"You haven't even heard the question yet."

Merlin moaned softly when Arthur slid his fingers between his cheeks. Circled his rim.

"If you can do it," he said. "I'll give you everything you want, remember?"

Merlin shuddered, his breathing hitched.

"Okay," Merlin whispered. Moaned. "Please?"

Arthur grinned. Told him the math problem. It was close. Merlin took some time to work it out in his head, but he managed to get the answer out at the last second.

"Correct," Arthur said reverently. Merlin moaned.

"All 20," Arthur asked. "Or keep going?"

Merlin bit his lip. Stole a glance over his shoulder at Arthur. Then said.

"All 20."

Arthur waited a beat.

"All 20?"

Merlin whimpered. "All 20, please."

"Better," Arthur said, standing. He removed the cane from the cabinet.

"Count them out," Arthur said. "You only win if you can stay right where you are for all twenty. Understood?"

"Yes Arthur," he breathed. Already he was completely locked up, anticipating the first blow.

Arthur considered easing Merlin into the first strike. A cane, like the heavy flogger, didn't take a lot of effort to land an impressive blow. In the hands of someone inexperienced, it could cause serious damage. He had a feeling that was why Merlin was so nervous. He was expecting to be hurt.

"Merlin," Arthur said after a pause to think it over. He was tapping the cane lightly against the outside of his own leg, so Merlin could hear it.

Merlin frowned, glancing at him over his shoulder. Arthur had never used his real name when they played.

"Tell me about your last experience with one of these," he said, holding up the cane. "You're very tense."

Merlin's blue eyes softened. Looked away.

"I put it on my limits list after the last client I had who preferred it. He hit me so hard the skin on my thighs split open. Gwen thought I was going to need stitches."

Arthur stopped tapping the cane.

"The cane isn't on your limits list now."

"No," he agreed. "I modeled for a pain-play demo, a few months before you, at the club downstairs. I never removed it."

"I can use the misery stick," Arthur said. Merlin shifted on his knees. Turned a look at him over his shoulder again, cheek pressed into the ottoman.

"I trust you," he said simply.

Arthur was so immediately hard, he felt a little dizzy. He swallowed. Adjusted his grip.

"Count them out then," he repeated, his voice rough.

Merlin closed his eyes.

The first blow didn't take much effort, on Arthur's part. Using a cane effectively is about wrist control, not the power of the swing. It left searing line across Merlin's pale cheeks, but he didn't make any noise except to say, "One."

Arthur went through the first five that way, sometimes hitting the same line more than once. Merlin hissed when he crossed an already tender spot low at the crease of his thigh, for the second time.

"Five," he ground out.

Arthur put a little more effort into the next five. He could see Merlin's knuckles turning white with each successive blow. The first ten he landed all within the space of Merlin's thighs and buttocks, so when he snapped a stinging line across his bicep, Merlin yelped in surprise, turning his head to the opposite side.

"E-eleven," he said when he'd caught his breath. Arthur took him across the shoulders with the next two, then across the same line on his bicep immediately afterward. Merlin jerked his arm with a cry, but managed to keep his body where he had been told. Barely. His thighs were trembling. He was desperate to move. To get away.

"Fourteen," he gasped.

Arthur circled him, struck him three more times, outside of the thigh, and across the backs of both thighs. Merlin heaved, his breathing wet when he said.

"Wait, seventeen, wait. Please."

Arthur paused. It wasn't a safe word. But Merlin was also clearly shaken. He drew in a breath, tried to explain.

"I just need a second, just..."

Arthur saw the tightness in Merlin's lower back. The grip he had on his elbows. He made a mental note to pace his blows a little more, to give Merlin time to adjust in between, should they ever use this toy again in the future.

"Three more," Arthur said. "You're perfect, Emrys. You have no idea how good you are."

Merlin groaned. Pulled in a shuddering breath, and then,

"Okay. I'm okay."

Arthur took him across the shoulders and the backs of his arms with the last three. He did it fast, and they were sharp blows, and Merlin screamed through his last count.

"Eighteen-shit! Nineteentwenty! _Jesus fuck!_ "

Arthur settled down behind him. Slid his hands under Merlin's heaving chest, and lifted him back upright. Merlin whimpered, his whole body shaking as he leaned gingerly into Arthur.

"I win," he whispered, a small, goofy smile on his lips. Arthur laughed.

"You win," he agreed. "You were brilliant. What an exceptional mind you have."

Merlin shuddered at the praise, his neck flushed. Arthur cradled him a minute longer, letting him catch his breath.

"Anything you want," he murmured into Merlin's ear. Merlin arched at the words. Began speaking almost immediately.

"Fuck me," he said. "Let me see you. No rules."

Arthur smiled against the back of Merlin's neck. Asked a little cheekily.

"Anything else?"

And Merlin surprised him by a last, breathless request.

"Let me undress you."

Arthur paused at that. It wasn't as though they had never been completely naked with each other, but now that he gave it some thought, part of their power play involved Arthur's clothing. He was rarely completely nude when he took Merlin, or when Merlin got him off. Usually that came later, when they showered. Arthur was even more surprised to find that the thought of taking Merlin like this, for the first time, made his skin prickle with heat.

He stood, let Merlin follow him up. When Merlin turned, Arthur almost couldn't believe he was again, half-hard.

Merlin was careful with his vest, undoing the two buttons quickly and folding it to set on the ottoman. Next came Arthur's tie, and Merlin gently lifted his collar, before working the knot loose. As he slid the gold fabric from around Arthur's neck, and draped it over the vest, Arthur couldn't help himself. He leaned in as Merlin started unbuttoning his shirt and murmured into his ear.

"You have no idea how hard it is for me not to put my mouth on you, after you've already come for me twice, just to hear the noises you'd make."

Merlin's fingers faltered on the buttons, and he choked down a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine. Arthur grinned.

When the shirt came off, Merlin took his time running his hands over Arthur's skin, and pressed him back toward the bed, walking him backwards until Arthur felt his thighs hit the baseboard and he was forced to sit down.

Merlin knelt at his feet. Removed his shoes and socks. Helped him out of his trousers and boxers last.

Arthur was still sitting on the end of the bed when Merlin pressed open his thighs. Took him in his mouth.

There was no need really, to work him up, Arthur could have come twice already tonight, and the wet heat of Merlin's mouth almost sent him over the edge right then and there.

But Arthur Pendragon was good to his word, and it was an effort, but he held off. Let Merlin have what he wanted. Let Merlin take control.

Merlin didn't waste time. He brought Arthur to the edge, right to the point of no return, and dug his thumbs into the soft flesh of Arthur's thighs, just above his knees.

Arthur buried his hands in Merlin's hair, cried out at the sharp pain of Merlin's short nails, halting the sudden liquidation of his spine. The pain of something deeper that Merlin had no knowledge of just above his left knee. He panted as Merlin came up to his feet, and stood with him. Swallowed the throbbing sensation that accompanied him, when he put weight on his left leg. Kissed Merlin fiercely to help himself forget, memorizing the swell of Merlin's lips against his own.

He had the strangest sense of deja vu, as he turned Merlin around so he could direct him back onto the bed. He pulled back so that he could look at Merlin as the sensation washed over him, holding Merlin's face in his hands, thumbs gently caressing his high cheekbones.

 _ **Mer** lin_.

"What?" Merlin asked, warming the backs of Arthur's shoulders with his palms.

"Nothing," Arthur smiled. "Nothing."

Merlin let him lay him back on the bed, so Arthur could settle between his legs. They were unhurried, but their mouths and hands were urgent as Merlin hooked his knees over Arthur's hips. Opened his mouth to Arthur's, both of them swallowing the other's moans.

Arthur rocked inside him, seating himself with a groan, and Merlin rolled his hips to meet him. The rhythm was easy to find. They moved as one, finding space for lips and hands and cheeks pressed close and hot until Merlin tipped his head back, his fingers tightening on the wings of Arthur's shoulders. And Arthur felt him tightening around him, and Merlin gasped, his breathing becoming quick and halting in the back of his throat, and when he gave a small, choked off cry in release, sliding back into Arthur as he came, Arthur felt the world ignite, from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. He cried out Merlin's name into Merlin's straining neck, and came hard, his legs shaking when it was over.

He was still up on his hands, and started to lean to the side to lay down, when Merlin locked his legs around his hips, keeping him seated inside of him, and pulled him down to lay on top of him.

"Stay here a moment," Merlin said, a little breathless. "If I'm getting everything I want tonight."

Arthur huffed a laugh, settled down with his cheek against Merlin's collarbone, and let Merlin stroke his hair and his shoulders until, without giving it much thought, Arthur fell asleep.


	9. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No chapter summary for this one. It's about time we found the plot, don't you think?

* * *

Arthur passed him a slip of paper between two fingers, as Merlin was preparing to leave for the evening.

He took the paper with a raised eyebrow, leaning back against the door to open it up.

"Got tired of slipping them into my pockets?" He said around a smile. Arthur smiled back, but it was a little strained.

"It's Gwaine's number. I want you to have it. But you'll need to memorize it. Don't put it in your phone until you need it."

Merlin skimmed the numbers three times, then handed the paper back to Arthur.

Arthur frowned.

"Memorized?" He asked skeptically.

"Memorized," Merlin confirmed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Now what would I need Gwaine's number for?"

Arthur shrugged.

"You probably won't. But I'm going to be out of town until Wednesday, and I won't be easy to reach. If you need to get in touch you can call Gwaine. He'll put you through."

Merlin smiled affectionately.

"That's very sweet, your highness," he said. "Thank you."

Arthur huffed, a little embarrassed. Merlin smiled wider.

"You're leaving for an entire week," Merlin teased. "And with two minutes left on the clock you're not even going to offer to kiss me goodbye?"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Come here you idiot," he said, smiling against Merlin's lips.

Merlin kissed him generously, and Arthur pulled his beanie down over his eyes as he pulled away.

"Oy!"

He was laughing as he backed out of the room, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he bumped fists with Gwaine as he turned to go. Arthur leaned on the door frame. Watched him make his way into the elevators.

"I like him," Gwaine said around a smile. Arthur was watching Merlin, who was giving him a brilliant smile from over Agravaine's shoulder, as the elevator doors closed.

"Me too," Arthur said quietly.

* * *

It wasn't until Monday evening that Merlin gave a second thought to Gwaine's number. He had never intended to use it, but memorized it to put Arthur's mind at ease. Because whatever this was, between him and Arthur, something floating in the negative space between a business transaction and a relationship, he liked it. He felt safe with Arthur. And Arthur had never crowded into his personal life, had never showed up unannounced or even attempted to start a conversation over text even though he had Merlin's phone number. He'd always left that up to Merlin. And Merlin was so grateful for the space, and Arthur's patience and his stupidly posh, ridiculously well behaved manner, that he'd gotten comfortable. He'd forgotten that Arthur was important to the world at large - that he was the closest thing to a celebrity that the business community had. And eventually, because one of them had a reputation to uphold...this, whatever this was? It would have to end.

He was reminded of this, abruptly, when he left Excalibur by the employee exit near the loading docks, on Monday night. He had been looking at his mobile when he pushed open the heavy metal door, so when the first camera flash erupted, he flinched.

Merlin looked up, uncomprehending, at the small crowd of people standing in the back lot, all of them holding cameras, some of them holding tape recorders. There were maybe only ten of them. But they all started speaking at once and the cacophony of it was startling.

"Mr. Balinor, is it true Arthur Pendragon pays you for sex?"

"Is Arthur with you?"

"Mr. Balinor, over here!"

He looked reflexively. The camera flash made him jerk his head away, and he ran his shoulder into the back door with a loud clang. He was aware of the clicking of cameras going off, of the questions. But he took a running leap for the loading dock without thinking, and bolted for the gap in the fence around the side of the building. There were footsteps behind him for nearly a block, and then he ducked into a pub that was closing up for the night and no one followed him inside. The bartender looked annoyed.

Merlin lifted a hand, still trying to catch his breath.

"Sorry mate," he panted. "Can I use your back door?"

"You in some kind of trouble?"

Merlin wasn't sure how to answer that. He felt the gravity of what had happened sinking in, and his hands were beginning to shake.

"I just...I just need to lose a few people is all. I'll be okay."

"The exit's through the kitchen," he said. "I'll walk you."

Merlin hiked his bag higher up on his shoulder. He wasn't sure where he was in relation to the closest tube station, or if he could even get to one without running into a reporter again. When he stepped out into the quiet alleyway behind the pub, and the bartender had closed the door behind him, he felt...lost.

A series of numbers came to mind.

He pulled out his phone. Hesitated. Called Gwaine.

The call connected on the second ring.

"Merlin?"

Gwaine sounded as surprised as Merlin felt.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "Sorry to bother you, I just...something happened at Excalibur tonight and I thought you should know."

"Are you alright?"

Merlin was touched by the concern in his tone.

"Yeah, no I'm fine. But there were a bunch of reporters at the back door tonight. They surprised me on my way out, I think they got some photos and they were asking about Arthur."

Gwaine was silent for a long moment. Merlin felt compelled to add, "I didn't say anything. But I sort of...I ran, and now I'm in an alley behind a pub and before I tried to get home I thought you should know."

"This happened just now?"

"Yeah, I just got a second alone. Some bartender let me sneak out the back of his pub after he locked the doors for the night."

"Do you know where you are?"

"No. I wasn't looking."

"Alright, I'm going to send Leon to pick you up -"

"Oh, you don't have to do that, I'm fine really, it's..." Merlin noticed two men at the end of the alley. They looked as if they were about to pass by and stopped to look when they spotted him.

"Fuck, I think there's a couple of them here again."

"Stay on the phone with me. Leon is on the way. I'll walk you through it."

"If you send someone won't the reporters know who it was?"

"Arthur will be fine. Just turn and walk the other way. Head for the street and take a left. Find a cross street and call it out to me when you see it."

Merlin did, walking quickly. The men at the other end of the alley started after him.

"Mr. Balinor! Excuse me!"

Merlin bolted for the end of the alley.

"Surrey and Hill," Merlin called out, as he took the crosswalk on a green. Horns blared.

"Okay. That's good Merlin. Don't wear yourself out. If you have to, just walk. Leon is three minutes away."

"I'm..." he craned his neck. Caught his bearings as he jogged. "North on Hill."

"Brilliant. Keep going. Just ignore them."

"Mr. Balinor!"

Merlin cursed. They were getting closer, but the stunt he'd pulled at the crosswalk gave him some breathing room. Just enough for a black challenger to swing up to the curb at his side.

"Oy," the driver said. "Get in."

"That's Leon," Gwaine confirmed for him. Merlin was already moving around the car. Throwing himself in the passenger seat.

"I'll see you in a few," Gwaine said, and hung up.

The car tore off, barely waiting for the door to swing shut. Merlin sank into the seat with hand over his eyes.

"Thank you," he said.

Leon was a broad shouldered strawberry blonde with kind eyes. He looked Merlin over and nodded, merging into traffic at a reasonable pace. Merlin wasn't sure why he thought they should be getting away as fast as possible, but the rational part of his brain reminded him of how obvious that would be. He leaned his head on the window and tried not to think the situation through to it's obvious conclusion. Tried to go back in his head to just a few hours ago, when everything was normal and calm.

"You okay?"

Merkin blinked, slid his gaze to the other man, and back to the windshield.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Bit shaky."

Leon handed him a bottle of water.

"You did good," he said. "Handled like a pro. No really," he added when he saw Merlin's face.

"Thanks, I guess," Merlin said quietly. Took a sip of the water. "Where are we going?"

"To Cavendish. There's a country home in the shire out there, where some of us stay when Arthur's out of town. Gwaine is there now."

"He's not with Arthur?"

"Elyan is with Arthur," Leon said, turning out of the city proper and heading into the country side. Merlin watched the lights passing, the scenery beginning to fade to shadows of green and grey in the moonlight as they left the city behind.

"I work tomorrow," he said absently. Leon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"At Excalibur?"

Merlin shook his head. "I work a few shifts a week at a kiosk on the commuter line."

"Huh."

Merlin wasn't sure if he should be offended by the comment or not.

"Can you beg off?"

Merlin sighed. "Yeah, I think I can."

"That's good. It's late and if they know you work at Excalibur it's likely someone has worked out where your second job is. You don't want to deal with that without getting some sleep first."

Merlin rubbed his eyes. Pressed his forehead into the dashboard.

They didn't speak again until they pulled into the drive leading to a small cottage. It seemed remarkably out of the ordinary.

Leon parked his car in a garage and closed the door. When Merlin got out of the car, Leon took his bag with a grin, and led him into the house.

It was warm inside, and everything was wood or stone which Merlin loved immediately. Cast iron pots and pans hung from the ceiling. There was a real silver kettle on the stove. A fireplace at one end of the farmers kitchen. Gwaine stood from the round table at the far end of the room when they entered. Offered Merlin his fist. Merlin bumped knuckles with a sad smile.

"Sorry for all the trouble."

"No trouble," Gwaine said, sounding like he meant it. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

Merlin shrugged, stuffed his hands into his pockets just for something to do.

"What uh...what happens now?"

Gwaine returned that sad smile of his. Leon shrugged off his coat and wandered into a different room.

"Now? You can take the back room. Get yourself settled, there's stuff you can use in the bathroom. Spare clothes in the closet. If you need anything just let me know and I'll get it for you. Food's labeled in the fridge otherwise help yourself. Call Gwen. And then get some sleep. We can work the rest out in the morning."

"Okay," Merlin said softly. Because there was nothing else to do.

Gwaine showed him to the room and left him standing there with his bag still on his shoulder. The enormity of the situation was starting to sink in. What if he ended up in the tabloids again? He couldn't put his mother through that another time. Never. He pressed a hand to the scar on his abdomen absently, and then disgusted with himself, threw his bag on the bed and fished his phone out to call Gwen.

"Hey," he said quietly. She had been sleeping, but was instantly alert when she picked up.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, shucking out of his coat and boots. "I'm with Gwaine. Something happened tonight."

"Do you need me to come get you?"

He considered it. He really did just want to go home. This whole thing would seem less real if he woke up in his own bed tomorrow.

"No," he breathed. "No, there were reporters at Excalibur tonight. They were looking for Arthur, took my picture out the back door. Can you report it for me?"

"Oh, Merlin," she started.

"Don't," he snapped, a little more harshly than he'd meant to. "Don't, please. I can't think about it right now."

"I'll call the office tonight and let them know. We'll have extra security around the building."

"It was at the employee exit. And they knew my name, so..." he paused. Rubbed his eyes. "Just keep an eye out when you're going into work tomorrow, yeah?"

"Alright. When will you be home?"

"I don't know. I'm in Cavendish with Gwaine until the morning at least. I'll text you when I have a better handle on the situation. I just got here."

"Call me if you need anything. Be safe."

"You too."

He hung up feeling empty again. Then dug in the top drawer, looking for some sweatpants. As he pulled them on his phone buzzed. He picked it up. The message was from an unknown number. When he opened the photo, for a second, there was nothing. He had no reaction. And then his body made the decision for him.

He went flying from the room, and because he didn't know where the bathroom was, he blew right past Leon and Gwaine at the table, both of them jumping to their feet as he ran past them, threw open the door, and bent double over the grass, throwing up in sudden heaving waves.

Gwaine was outside with him, a hand on the back of his shirt to keep him upright. And he just couldn't seem to stop. Everything he had ever eaten was making a reappearance and it burned and there were tears in his eyes and Gwaine was saying something but he couldn't quite hear him over the heaving. The gagging. The horrible pressure in his ribcage that made his ears ring.

Between gags, he managed to say,

" _Phone_ ," in a ragged whisper.

Leon brought Merlin's phone outside. On the screen was a picture of Sigan, from the day he was arrested. It was a screenshot of a newspaper article. The headline read: "Cornelius Sigan Charged in Attempted Homicide Against Prostitute".

Merlin heaved. Spit bile into the grass.

Below the photo was a text message. It read:

> Trying to ruin another good man's reputation?

Gwaine took Merlin across the chest. Bodily lifted him back into the house and carried him to the bathroom.

Merlin panted, his whole body shaking, and Gwaine sat him on the edge of the tub, and forced his head down between his knees.

"Breathe, Merlin. You're safe. It's going to be alright."

Merlin gasped, suddenly aware that he was crying, and when he noticed Gwaine still holding his phone, he snatched it away and hurled it out of the bathroom. Leon stepped back just in time and Merlin sobbed in relief when he heard it shatter on the floor.

Gwaine rubbed his back. Handed him a towel when he had calmed.

"Rinse out your mouth and let's sit down a minute. Tell me exactly what happened. It's going to be alright Merlin. I promise you."

Merlin didn't believe him. But he was wrung out and exhausted and he just wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to when Arthur told him he waited for Thursdays every week just like he did. And Arthur. All of this coming down on Arthur felt like the end of the world.

He let Gwaine lead him back to the kitchen when he'd spit in the sink a few times and washed his face. Leon was sitting at the table with Merlin's phone.

Merlin had the urge to lunge for it. To smash the damn thing into a million pieces. Perhaps sensing his tension, Gwaine wrapped an arm around his ribs. Guided him to sit on the couch nearby instead, with a glass of water and sat on the coffee table at Merlin's knees.

Merlin curled himself up in the corner of the couch, just holding the glass, staring at the empty space between his chest and Gwaine's.

When he spoke his voice was raw, and hollow.

"I called Gwen maybe ten minutes ago. Told her to report the incident at Excalibur to the office for me, and said I'd let her know when I'd be back. I put my phone on the bed. Put on a pair of sweatpants. When I was about to go through my bags to find my phone charger, I got the message. It was from an unknown number. I opened the attachment and that's what was inside."

When he was finished Gwaine gently tapped the bottom of his water glass. He took a sip reflexively.

"Who is Sigan?" Gwaine asked carefully.

Merlin considered throwing the water glass just then, as well. The sound of it breaking would be satisfying.

"I don't want to talk about that," he said. "Google it."

Gwaine considered that. In the reflection of the telly, Merlin saw him glance up at Leon. Nodded once, and turned his attention back to Merlin. Leon left the room.

"I don't want the details, Merlin. I just need to know who he is, so I can start tracking the person who sent you that message."

"He was an entrepreneur in Northern Ireland, okay? He came to Avalon to fuck me and eventually got so jealous of my other clients he tried to kill me. Happy?"

He said it so venomously, he surprised even himself. Instantly he put a hand over his eyes. Sank further back into the couch.

"Fuck," he whispered. Tried desperately not to cry. " _Fuck_."

Gwaine cupped the back of Merlin's neck in his warm palm, and Merlin drew in a shuddering breath at the contact. Gwaine pulled them close together, so that their foreheads were nearly touching.

"I'm so sorry, Merlin."

"Don't," Merlin started. "Please, don't." But he was already crying again.

"None of this is your fault. None of it. You're safe, I'm going to find whoever sent that message to you. It's going to be alright."

"It's not," Merlin hissed through clenched teeth, crying in earnest now. He could barely get the words out.

"I can't do this. My mother..."

His words were starting to fall out of him, unchecked.

"My...it would kill her, I promised her...and Arthur, they can't say that about Arthur I'd never...I didn't..."

Gwaine was rubbing his back.

"I told you, Merlin. Arthur's going to be fine. You're going to be fine."

But how could they be? It was just too much, and it felt too big to be contained. He sucked in a breath, pressed cold fingers to his eyes after Gwaine took the water glass from him. Tried to get himself back under control.

Before he fully managed it, Leon handed Gwaine a mobile. Merlin was laying with his cheek pressed to the arm of the couch when Gwaine took the phone from Leon and handed it to Merlin.

Merlin frowned. Put the phone up to his ear and said, "Hello?"

He sounded awful. But the world came back into focus when he heard him. Arthur.

"Merlin."

He said it like you would say, 'Thank God.'

Gwaine and Leon left the room. Merlin curled up tighter on the sofa. Closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I feel terrible about the whole thing."

"Don't," Arthur said. "I'll take care of it."

Merlin took a deep breath. He believed him. He just didn't know what it would mean in the long run. What kind of damage they would have to endure to make it out the other side of this.

"Tell me about your day," Merlin said impulsively.

"Anything about it?" Arthur said with a smile. "Or start to finish?"

"Anything," Merlin murmured.

"I'm in the Yukon at the moment. I woke up this morning and discovered that I had no idea what cold really was, until I had to walk downtown this morning for a decent cup of tea. I was wildly unprepared for it. I thought of you. This is how you must feel all the time."

Merlin coughed out a wet laugh. Kept his eyes closed and just listened. Arthur told him about the snow, and how beautiful the country was, and how he missed Wales, and he was getting sentimental in his old age, to which Merlin snorted. He told Merlin he'd seen a moose, and how he had known sort of, obliquely anyway, how big they were but seeing one in real life gave him a heart attack. How he found out later that the four-legged monster wasn't even full grown.

"Like that?" Arthur asked after a silence had fallen.

"Yes," Merlin said quietly. "Thank you."

So Arthur kept talking to him, like he did when Merlin was spaced out after a good scene, until Merlin had fallen asleep on the couch to the sound of his voice.

* * *

When Merlin woke, he was in bed, and it was noon so the first thing he did was promptly panic.

It took him too long to remember that he'd definitely called Gwen, and that he was in Cavendish, with two members of Arthur's security team.

When he'd finally calmed himself, he sat down on the floor to call his boss at the commuter line, and then remembered he'd broken his phone.

Feeling foolish, Merlin left the bed room, shuffling out into the kitchen to find Leon typing away on a laptop, Merlin's phone plugged into it. He stopped when he saw it, and Leon glanced up.

"Oy. You're awake then. How are you feeling?"

"What are you doing with my phone?" Merlin asked, instead of answering. He took a seat at the table, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm trying to get the data off that message you were sent last night. I'm afraid the phone is all for shit mate. You can still turn it on, but the sensor in the screen is completely blown. You could give it voice commands, maybe. But the glass is going to fall out of the housing before too long. You should look into getting a new one."

Merlin nodded.

"My fault. Were you able to get anything?"

Leon eyed him, then leaned back in his chair.

"I've got the message. The rest we'll have to see."

Merlin glanced behind him at the kitchen, wondered if there was anything to eat. He wasn't really hungry, but Leon was still looking at him, and he needed something to do before he got into an uncomfortable staring match with the security of the man he was fucking for money.

"Gwaine seems to like you," Leon said. "But I read the transcripts of your court case. It was very dramatic. And I can't help but think, it's pretty coincidental timing, this new drama you've gotten us into."

Merlin felt his skin heat up, but he wasn't as shaken this morning as he was the night before. He wasn't feeling quite as vulnerable. Some days, a comment like that would destroy him. And other days, like today, it sent him right over angry and into revenge.

He turned to look at Leon very slowly, his blue eyes dark.

"What do you mean, dramatic?"

He was surprised by how calm he sounded. Leon laced his fingers over his stomach.

"Sigan was a wealthy man. You got a lot of money from him at the end of that case. And the medical examiner for the prosecution testified that not only had you been in hospital before for playing rough with your customers, but the wound you sustained wasn't life threatening."

In a way it was true. Sigan had missed his vital organs with the blow. Most of the damage was to sinew and muscle.

Merlin took an extra ten seconds to get his reactions under control. Had to fight with himself not to go across the table at this man whom he was sure could incapacitate him as easily as if he were a kitten.

"You're right," Merlin said quietly. "Or you would be, if he hadn't left me tied to the bed with the blade still inside me, to bleed out. If he hadn't put his hands on either side of it, and forced his weight into the cut, just to see if the pressure of the blood coming out would force the knife free. Just to see the skin split."

Leon was quiet at that. Merlin continued, standing very slowly from the table. He was aware his legs were shaking from the adrenaline shock of the conversation.

"And I didn't get anything, from Sigan. The courts required him to pay off my medical bills. My surgeries. He went to jail, and I had to leave Ireland, because I was a whore and he was a good man."

Leon frowned, looked like he was going to start to speak. But Merlin didn't want to hear it.

"I don't want anything from Arthur. I just don't want my mum to have to see my face in the tabloids again, and make herself sick. If I never saw another reporter in my life it would be too soon."

He turned and went back to his room. He got dressed, hiked his bag up on his shoulder, and then climbed out the window into the rainy afternoon.

He got to the end of the property before Leon was there at his side. They didn't speak for a long time as Merlin continued walking, and Leon followed at his shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." Merlin said simply.

"Do you know where you are?" Leon prompted.

"No," Merlin replied coolly. He was still remarkably sober, despite the heat under his skin and the tremor in his hands. "I'm going to find a pay phone, and call Gwen to pick me up."

Leon let him walk another hundred feet or so before answering.

"I could drive you."

Merlin stopped.

"Do you want to drive me, or do you have to, because Gwaine told you to?"

Leon rolled his eyes, coming around Merlin to stand in front of him.

"Gwaine told me to take you home if you asked, of course. But I want to. It's cold and wet today. If you get sick I'll feel bad."

Something about the way he said it, was the end of the line for Merlin. He just snapped.

"Leave me the fuck alone! I don't want any more to do with this day or this place or any of it!" He roared. " _How dare you_ , read a goddamn transcript of a fucking court case that took MONTHS to resolve. Months of sitting in the same room with the only man I've ever really been afraid of, and make an assumption about what happened? You weren't there. You didn't know him. What he was like at the end or how he treated me. I didn't ask for this! You think I woke up one day and decided 'I'm going to be a prostitute!' There's a life goal I can get behind?"

He was railing at Leon now, half hysterical, and the man looked stunned, his hands falling from his jacket pockets.

"I didn't take anything from Sigan, and I don't want anything from Arthur, and I certainly don't want your fucking help. If you feel bad, then you can fucking live with it you cunt!"

He shoved Leon aside as he said the last, stalking off in the direction of a Tesco's he'd seen on the drive into Cavendish. It was a fair walk but he could use the time to think. Leon didn't come after him the second time, but he did call after him. Merlin didn't turn around.

"Merlin! Wait, take a fucking phone then, at least. _Merlin!_ "

Merlin stopped because he was tired and hungry and the sooner he could get Gwen on the phone the sooner he could curl up in bed and be done with the day. When he turned, Leon tossed him a mobile.

He caught it with one hand. Flipped it open. It was a pay per use phone - a burner. The balance on the screen showed more than enough minutes remaining to call Gwen.

Then he turned and walked away.

* * *

There was a heavy silence in the car when Gwen picked him up. While he was waiting he'd called his boss at the commuter line, but he was well over the time it would have been relevant to call. He tried to explain he'd been stranded in Cavendish and his phone had been stolen, which as far as he was concerned was the truth, but his boss was still miffed. It was tense, but it seemed like he was still welcome to come back to work on his next shift and that's all that really mattered to him.

When they made it home, the relief was palpable. Merlin and Gwen locked the door and shucked out of their coats and boots and then, abruptly, Merlin burst into tears.

Gwen cupped his face. Looked devastated. He was just so angry he couldn't stop it.

"Let's just go," he said. "Somewhere else. Anywhere else. I'll get a proper job and we can have dogs and debts like everyone else."

Gwen laughed, but there were tears in her eyes now. She ran her hands through his hair, wiped his cheeks with the heels of her hands.

"I'll put on some tea, shall I?"

He nodded. She kissed his face, and went into the kitchen to set the water to boil. Merlin went into his room and bundled himself into his favorite black joggers and thermal shirt. He tossed on a hoodie for good measure, and his flannel. A pair of heavy wool socks.

He wandered back into the kitchen and sat down at the counter as Gwen started pouring the hot water into mugs.

"How was work?" Merlin asked absently. Gwen hesitated.

"The reporters were there again. Our security is keeping them back but they're looking for opportunities to get inside. There's concern because we're coming up on another club date and it will be harder to regulate who is getting in."

Merlin rubbed his eyes.

"I have to call Arthur and tell him to cancel tomorrow."

Gwen lowered her head. Took a sip of her tea.

"I'm sorry, Merlin."

"Don't be sorry," he said quietly. "It was bound to end. I just hoped it wouldn't end so spectacularly. After he told me he was Arthur Pendragon, I should have seen this coming."

"He told you that?" Gwen asked, lowering her mug. Merlin nodded absently, tracing a finger around the rim of his mug.

"While you were visiting your dad. I had a bad drop on Thursday and Arthur came to stay with me until Friday. We talked for most of the night, and he told me."

Gwen studied him, looking sad.

"He told me..." she paused. Propped her cheek up with her hand. "He told me he wasn't brave enough to tell you, because you treat him like a normal person. And he was afraid if you knew, you'd change your attitude."

Merlin snorted into his tea.

"What?" Gwen said around a smile.

"Oh I changed my attitude alright. I call him 'Your Highness' now. And 'Princess' when he's being particularly prattish."

Gwen laughed. "Oh my God Merlin."

They were having a good laugh about it too, when the phone in Merlin's flannel buzzed. He sighed, flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Merlin?" It was Gwaine. He sounded concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine," he said, sipping his tea. "I went home. Gwen picked me up. I'm sorry I left like that, but it's been a really long day already."

"You got home alright then?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Nothing to report here. But if you speak to Arthur you might want to tell him to cancel on me tomorrow. Those reporters are going to be waiting for him there. Gwen says they were in the parking lot again today."

Gwaine sighed. "I'll pass it along. Do you need anything?"

"No, thank Leon for the phone for me. I'll let you know if anything else happens."

"Alright Merlin. Keep your head up, this will blow over. I've seen it before."

Merlin refrained from pointing out that he had too, and it didn't just blow over. It got a lot worse before it got better.

"Thanks Gwaine. Cheers."

Merlin put his head down on the counter after he hung up. Gwen came around and rubbed his back.

"I really liked him, you know?" He said.

"I know," she said, her voice quiet with sympathy.

"I'll call Giaus in the morning," he said. "Maybe it's time to start over."

Gwen bent over him, pressed herself into his back.

"If that's what you want."

It wasn't. But the sound of Arthur's voice in his ear over the phone wasn't going to fix this. Merlin felt like something in his chest had crumbled away, irreparable.

There would never be another, like Arthur.


	10. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin spends his first Thursday at Excalibur without Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was absolutely blown away by all the comments I received this week! All of your words were so kind and they really meant so much to me. I'm so happy that you all have been responsive to my questions. I LOVE BDSM literature, but it is very difficult, in my experience, to find any in print that describes a healthy relationship between a Dom and sub. So many times I read stories about BDSM that feel very one-sided, focusing entirely on the Dom or entirely on the sub. So I wanted to tell you a story about committed partners; not a story about one person taking pleasure from another person. This is a balancing act - Arthur and Merlin are bound to make mistakes. And they do! But I wanted to be honest about the way these relationships should work, and how the emotional and physical aftercare should always be a shared experience. And it is so rewarding to hear so many of you writing in to tell me that you view BDSM differently now than when you first started this with me. Especially the rope scenes. Arthur is very safety conscious because everyone using any rope ties, not just suspensions, should have respect for the body in the harness. It's easy to accidentally injure or be injured, so this is something I will always stress when writing about these scenes. And honestly, what's more sexy than someone who cares about your wellbeing?
> 
> So thank you, a thousand times for all your beautiful responses. They make me laugh, and want to write for you. In honor of all your lovely comments, please enjoy two chapters today! 
> 
> We've now entered my favorite part of the story. Prepare yourselves. 💋

* * *

Arthur didn't come to him that Thursday. Merlin knew it was for the best, and he had told Gwaine to tell him to cancel, but it still hurt. And on top of that, he'd finally gotten up the courage to call Dr. Giaus, and only managed to reach his answering service. That was days ago and Merlin hadn't heard from him. It was little wonder, really. Even if Giaus didn't remember his scandal, he'd be reminded very quickly with a short search of Merlin's name on the web. About the nightmare his first run in with the press was. About how it was happening again. 

When he thought it over too much, it made him feel like a shadow. Like he was being forced to play a fool, all because he was an escort and didn't have a respectable job waiting tables or punching data into a computer at a desk somewhere. 

But it didn't matter anyway. Arthur was gone and if he was smart he wouldn't be coming back, and it wasn't like Merlin had time to go back to University. He told himself it had always been a pipedream. Whether Giaus returned his call or not didn't change that fact. 

That night Merlin turned a short trick - a vanilla walk-in that lasted 10 minutes of the pre-purchased hour. Agravaine had called off and when he left Excalibur he was accosted by a crowd of reporters this time. There were at least thirty of them, but it felt like ten times that many camera flashes. They followed him downtown.

He said nothing, just kept walking. But he was drawing a crowd - people were starting to stare at him from across the street.

He'd made the cover of some of the cheaper tabloids earlier that week. Other, more reputable magazines were starting to take notice. He tried not to feel abandoned, because no one owed him anything for this. Arthur and him were not in a relationship. He was an escort. Arthur paid him once a week to share his bed and it was always going to end this way.

But it wasn't Arthur's face they were printing all over garbage news; he didn't have a security team, or, to the reporters, a life worth holding in tact. Merlin was just a whore to them, and they would raze his life to the ground if they thought it would make a decent headline. Already he felt like he was drowning.

He couldn't stand the thought of getting on the tube by himself with a pack of reporters. He thought of waking up to this one day when they figured out where he lived and it made his skin itch.

Up ahead there was a club. It was packed and Merlin could feel the bass of the music in the soles of his boots. He focused on the music, because if he heard someone shout 'Mr. Balinor!' one more time he might start screaming.

He moved into the crowds heading for the club, creating a temporary wall between himself and the reporters. Then he ducked inside.

It was dark and the lighting was deep navy, making everything appear like it was underwater. All he could hear was the beat of the music and the ambient hum of hundreds of voices all speaking at once. Merlin kept walking. Pressed himself further into the mass of bodies until he was at the center of the dance floor.

Merlin lost track of how long he had been there. He was dancing, his ears were ringing from the volume of the music, and someone had handed him several drinks since he'd made it to the dance floor. He was buzzed, right on the precipice of drunk and ready to step off the edge when the lights came on throughout the club.

Merlin flinched at the sudden brightness. Missed a step forward as he was jostled from behind and struck his elbow on one of the high top tables nearby. The sudden silence was deafening. It pounded in his head as he made for the exit with the slow trickle of bodies being ushered out for the night.

He fumbled for his phone. Managed to flip it open after three tries. 4AM.

"Fuck me," he hissed under his breath as he stepped out into the cold night air.

The exodus of the crowd was so heavy he had to step into an alley to get a semi-quiet place to call a cab. He fumbled with the keypad, the numbers running backwards in his head, when someone said near to his shoulder.

"Aren't you that hooker from the tabloids?"

Merlin didn't bother looking up. Was the mobile screen this blurry a second ago?

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

Hands struck him on the shoulders making him fall back into the wall. His mobile tumbled from his fingers, clattering on the pavement. He looked up.

There were three of them, they looked like they were probably in their early twenties. Not much younger than Merlin. The one standing in the front took Merlin by his jacket collar before he could find his feet and slammed him back against the wall again. Merlin groaned, his head spinning.

"You must be something, sweetheart, if a Pendragon pays to fuck you."

Merlin jerked in surprise when the guy took a hold of him through his jeans. Stroked him so hard there was only pain. He pressed his hands on the broad chest and shoved but it was like trying to bend iron with your bare hands.

"Get off!" Merlin shouted, suddenly, immediately sober. "Don't touch me!"

"Don't touch you? You're a fucking hooker. That's what people do to hookers."

All three of them laughed. The guy leaned in to kiss him. Merlin arched, twisting as the hand in front of him tried to slide down his jeans. He bit down hard on the guy's mouth and when he jerked back in surprise, Merlin slugged him.

Merlin yelled in as much pain as the guy he'd punched. Something cracked inside his hand. He could feel it. But there was no one touching him briefly and he bolted for the other end of the alley.

Footsteps tore after him. He held his arm against his chest as he ran, his skin hot. Then suddenly he was caught. There were arms around his chest and his feet actually left the ground as he met them, struggling wildly until a voice he recognized spoke.

"Merlin!" Leon said, cradling the twisting body in his arms. "Merlin, it's okay. It's just me."

Down the other end of the alley the three guys were about to catch up with them.

Merlin gasped, pressing his forehead into Leon's collar.

"Stand here with Elyan, Merlin. You're safe. Okay?"

Merlin nodded. Let Leon take him by the shoulders and hand him to another man, standing behind them. The name was familiar to him, but just then he wasn't able to place it. Elyan was a short stocky man with skin the color of a night sky and liquid dark eyes set in a serious face. He positioned himself in front of Merlin, one arm held out as if to brace Merlin for some kind of impact. Merlin gasped for air, only just aware of how hard he had been running, how out of breath he really was.

"Breathe," Elyan said. It was a quiet, serious command. His voice deep and soft like honey. Merlin closed his eyes. Pulled in a breath through his nose. Held it. Let it out as slowly as he could manage.

The three men had skidded to a stop in front of Leon. He was standing in front of Merlin and Elyan, his arms loose at his sides, his leather jacket shining in the dim streetlights like moonlight on a black lake.

"Hey boys," Leon said cheerfully. "What say you walk away now, and no one will have to visit the hospital tonight?"

The three of them laughed. Merlin thought they were right to laugh. All of them were huge, broad men who clearly spent an exceptional amount of time at the gym. They looked like they could take a hit, and dish out as good as they gave.

"Jesus Christ," Leon spat. "Come on then. It'll be a pleasure to put you animals down."

The three advanced, and Merlin took an involuntary step forward as if to stop them. Elyan raised his arm again, shook his head.

"It's alright," he said. Merlin put a hand on Elyan's shoulder, eyes still on Leon.

"He doesn't have to do this for me, he's going to get hurt."

But even as he said it, Leon was shaking out his shoulders and advancing on the three like he had God on his side. He was smaller than two of them, and leaner, but it became clear, very clear, that Leon could box like he meant it. He stepped into the leader, drove into his ribs three times with hard uppercuts, ducked a wild haymaker and turned to the right away from a high jab. He struck one of the flankers square in the nose, and as the man's head snapped back, Leon took him to the ground with a hard left cross to his jaw. One of the ones left standing stepped back in surprise, but the leader had recovered and swung again. Leon grabbed him by the back of the head and drove his face down as he brought his knee up. The sound of his kneecap meeting the bridge of the man's nose was astounding. He dropped to the pavement instantly. Leon turned on the last one, but the man was already backing up, hands in the air and Leon stopped. Spat on the ground at the would-be attackers boots.

"Fuck off," Leon told him. The man wisely turned and ran.

Merlin stared, slack jawed, as Leon rolled his shoulder and came back to them, looking over Merlin, concerned.

"You alright?"

Merlin nodded dumbly. He was still cradling his wrist to his chest, and Leon reached out, touched his hot skin with two fingers.

"What's this?"

Merlin blinked. Looked down.

Leon put up his hands so Merlin could see them, and then took Merlin by the back of the neck gently. Made him bow his head a little. That was when Merlin realized he was shaking. Merlin closed his eyes.

"Did you do that when you hit that bruiser?" Leon asked him, one hand supporting Merlin's wrist. The other still on the back of his neck.

"Yeah," Merlin breathed, his voice tremulous and low. Leon huffed.

"It was a good hit. He has a nasty black eye. Got to show you how to keep your wrist straight when you punch."

Merlin laughed a little breathlessly.

"What are you doing here?" He managed after a moment. Leon let him lift his head.

"Gwen used his directory number when you didn't come home. She thought you might be with him. He tried to call you, said he couldn't get through, and here we are."

"Gwen did?" Merlin felt his throat tighten. She must have been worried if she'd broken the rules like that. It was a huge risk to her and her clients. She'd probably tried to call him but he couldn't hear his phone in the club.

His phone.

He looked around, half turning.

"I lost my phone when they..."

Leon's gaze darkened.

"Alright, let's get you something for your hand. We can call Gwen from the car. If you're up for it, he'd like to see you. Or I can take you home."

Merlin was feeling a little off balance. He wanted to see Arthur. Badly. He ached for it right down to the marrow of his bones, but...

"Is that wise?" He whispered.

Elyan glanced at Leon. He'd been silent through the whole exchange.

"If you're worried about the reporters, we can get you in and out without anyone seeing you," Elyan said in his quiet, serious way. "It is admirable that you're worried about it, because if I'm being honest, he doesn't seem to care, himself. He'd just like to see you, if you're willing to see him."

"I don't want to cause any more trouble," Merlin said honestly.

"No trouble," Elyan said, smiling for the first time. "We have a car nearby. Are you alright to walk a little ways?"

Merlin nodded. As they started off, Leon surprised him by putting a hand on the small of his back, supporting him while he walked.

"Won't they know it was him, if the reporters see you helping me?"

Elyan and Leon had been careful not to use Arthur's name out loud, so Merlin followed their lead.

Leon glanced at him, lead him out onto the street.

"No, Elyan and I aren't on the books. Officially we're a freelance private security team. On paper we have no ties to any family name in particular."

Merlin nodded. He was feeling suddenly very tired and his hand ached and his legs were still a little wobbly and that was humiliating. So when Leon bundled him into the back seat of the car, he fell asleep almost immediately, resting his head against the cold window. He woke twice during the car ride - once to accept a bag of ice from Elyan for his hand. And then again, when they were clearing the gates of Pendragon Estate.

Merlin blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Had to crane his head to see it all and even then it wasn't possible. He couldn't even begin to guess at the acreage, but it had to be in the thousands - he couldn't make out any kind of property line. Elyan and Leon weren't kidding when they said they could get him in and out without being seen. As far as he could tell this was a private road.

There was an eight foot stone wall and an iron gate big enough to fit two large vehicles abreast of each other. A row of ancient oak trees lined the drive, towering overhead, and there in the lights that lit the massive archway where an honest to God _courtyard_ opened up on the front doors of the main house, Merlin could see a grand entryway with three archways, that appeared to encase a massive set of white stone stairs. Everything was white stone and dove grey slate tile and it shone like starlight against the early morning. For too long it did not register completely that this was where Arthur _lived_.

"It looks like a castle," Merlin breathed. Leon chuckled and Merlin blushed fiercely.

"Didn't mean to say that out loud," he mumbled.

Elyan glanced back at him.

"It was a castle, once. A small one, but before the Pendragons it was owned by members of the Plantagenets. The acreage and the buildings were greatly reduced after the war. Then it was given over as an estate to the families who served the Tudors."

Merlin was quiet again. Leon punched Elyan in the shoulder. They all fell silent as they pulled up to the front of the building. He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't help it.

"Not here," Merlin said suddenly. "Is there a back entrance?"

Leon shrugged.

"We can do that if you want. Do you see those oak trees?"

Merlin looked around. Once again took in the sight of the mature oaks standing guard all along the front of the estate and up the long drive. The canopy was so heavy, he could barely see the lightening sky overhead. All the stars were obscured.

"If any cameras can get a picture through those trees," Leon said, parking the car at the front staircase. "They deserve to print the photo. You'll be fine Merlin. And we should really take a look at that hand."

Merlin got out of the car. Was surprised by the clean scent of the air and the coolness of it. For a moment he just stood by the car and took it in. The night and the oaks and the mist. And then Elyan and Leon were leading him up to the door.

Inside the front hall opened onto a beautiful receiving room; in the overhead lighting all the stonework had a golden cast to it, and Merlin had to work not to stare. Leon and Elyan walked him into a side hallway that was richly furnished with paintings that Merlin was sure were too large for his bedroom, and then into a kitchen that looked like it was capable of the kind of prep work that would end up feeding an army.

Merlin let himself be seated at a bar stool at the enormous granite island on the other side of the sink. Elyan took his hand and removed the ice. It wasn't bruised yet, but his thumb and the wrist were swollen and it ached to move it. Elyan was very gentle with him, but he still jerked with a pained hiss when he pressed his thumbs along the bone, checking for breaks. Leon came back from the fridge with a glass of water and set it down.

"You're in luck," Elyan said, concentrating on Merlin's hand. "Not broken. Can you take off your coat and your hoodie for me?"

Leon helped him out of both, and then Elyan took his hand back.

"It feels broken," Merlin said a little petulantly. Elyan smiled, began massaging Merlin's wrist.

"It's dislocated, and if it isn't reset, you may lose mobility in your thumb."

Merlin fidgeted. Felt his skin heating under his t-shirt.

"That sounds kind of serious, shouldn't we, maybe...go to a doctor?"

"Elyan will set it for you," Leon said, snagging a sip from the glass of water he'd brought over for Merlin. "He was a medical officer in the Army."

Merlin relaxed a little, his fingers uncurling against Elyan's forearm. But his shoulders were still tense, expecting something to happen. Elyan just seemed to be alternately checking for more breaks and massaging Merlin's hand.

"You're from Ireland?" Elyan asked after a moment had passed.

"Yeah," Merlin said, a little surprised. "Northern Ireland."

"I can hear it when you speak sometimes, but not all the time," Elyan said matter-of-factly.

Merlin shifted on the stool, looked at Leon and then back down at his wrist.

"Before I started working for Avalon and Excalibur, I was a...I was a student at the University of Warwick at Coventry."

Leon looked up at that, but it was Elyan who answered. He kept his eyes on Merlin's wrist as he worked but lifted his brows.

"What were you studying?"

"Maths. Finance mostly. But there were some professors who complained regularly and publically that they couldn't understand me when I spoke. I spent an extra six hours a week straightening out my accent with a tutor."

Leon looked like he was about to say something, but just then, Elyan took hold of Merlin's thumb, and pulled down and in. There was an audible popping sound.

"Fuck!" Merlin yelled, yanking his hand back. Elyan snagged it back before he could get up off the stool.

"Easy," Elyan said, laughing a little. "Easy. That was good. You're going to need some more ice and a bandage."

"Good?" Merlin wailed. "You just lull people into a false sense of security so that you can rearrange their bone structure?"

"You needed to be relaxed," Arthur said from the doorway, making Merlin jump. "Otherwise it might have caused more damage."

Leon straightened from where he was leaning over the counter as Arthur stepped into the kitchen. He looked like he had been sleeping, his hair a little mussed and his black t-shirt wrinkled. He was wearing his glasses.

"Elyan, Leon. Thank you."

The two of them nodded, and with a short goodbye to Merlin they left the kitchen. When they passed him Arthur looked...devastated. Merlin could only stare. And then his expression smoothed out again, and Arthur went to a cupboard on the far side of the kitchen and came back with an ace bandage. He straddled the stool opposite Merlin and took his hand. Neither of them spoke as Arthur began winding the bandage around his wrist.

"Leon called Gwaine while you were asleep in the car and explained what happened. I didn't hear about it until just now when you came in. I'm sorry for..." he trailed off, carefully wrapping Merlin's hand. "I'm not angry at you," he finished quietly.

"Arthur I..." it was his turn to trail off. When Arthur finished with his hand, adding two silver butterfly clips to the bandage to hold it in place, Merlin slid his hand up Arthur's forearm, just to feel him. Arthur took a deep breath, finally looked up into those glacial blue eyes.

"I didn't want to cancel our appointment."

"I know," Merlin murmured. "That's enough."

And he meant it. He wasn't stupid. There was no light at the end of the tunnel here. It was good enough to know that Arthur wanted him, still wanted him, even after everything had gone to shit. He would take one night a week until the day he died to have the look in Arthur's eyes when he laughed. The strong assurance of his hands. The way he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and made everything sound posh and ridiculous.

"Will you stay the night?" Arthur said suddenly. Merlin got the impression that he hadn't intended to ask quite that way. It made him smile.

"You don't have to of course," Arthur added, making Merlin smile wider. "Leon will take you home, if you'd rather. But it's...well it's early morning and I just thought this would be easier if you wanted to stay."

"If you let me borrow a phone," Merlin said, still smiling. "I'd like that. But I need to call Gwen. She'll be up soon, and I don't want her to worry."

Arthur blinked.

"...really?"

Merlin laughed.

"Yes."

It was endearing to Merlin, that Arthur seemed to be awkwardly attempting to find a way to ask him to sleep in his bedroom with him, as they walked up the grand staircase to the second floor. Merlin was holding a small bag of ice against his hand, and watching Arthur climb the stairs ahead of him.

"There's a guest room, here at the end of the hall. I'm right next door. If...if you need anything." He said, like he was disappointed in himself.

This was unhealthy, and it wouldn't amount to anything. But Arthur was here, and so was he and he would be damned if he was going to sleep in the room next door.

Merlin reached out and snagged Arthur's shirt from behind. Tugged him to a stop. Arthur turned, confused, and cupped Merlin's shoulders in his warm hands.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?"

Arthur's hands slid from his shoulders to his neck, and Merlin shuddered.

"I can call off. I happen to know the boss," he said with a smirk. Merlin stepped into him.

"Then...will you let me stay with you tonight?" And because he had nothing to lose, he added, "If you think I deserve it."

Arthur had to close his eyes for a long moment. Pressed his forehead to Merlin's.

"I'll have to be careful with you, with your hand bandaged," Arthur said, low against Merlin's lips. "Do you think you can behave?"

Merlin had to stifle a moan.

Arthur kissed his neck, and then turned, keeping one hand on Merlin's back as they started down the hall. They entered a room at the far end.

It was like walking into another building altogether. Merlin actually stopped in his tracks when the lights came on. The floor was sunken and there were three steps leading down to a king sized bed and a set of warm oak dressers. The floor above had a couch and a television. Red and gold rugs. Wood floors. A fireplace by the bed. The entire east facing wall was a series of bay windows that opened out onto a lake down in the field of property below.

Merlin felt a little dizzy.

"Oh my god," he breathed. Turned in a circle to take it all in as Arthur shut the door.

Arthur smiled a little. Came up to stand beside him.

"Did you still want to stay?"

Merlin frowned, looked at Arthur, genuinely confused. He searched his face, but it was like looking at stone.

_He was afraid to tell you who he was. He said he wasn't brave enough._

Merlin held Arthur's eyes as he spoke.

"I wanted to see you," he said, feeling like he was a teenager again. "I told you, I wait for Thursday all week. I don't care about the room."

Arthur lowered his head, smiled a little.

"Come here," he said quietly. Merlin smiled back. Let Arthur fold him into a hug.

"What am I going to do with you?" Arthur whispered against his shoulder.

Merlin pressed them closer, then he lifted Arthur's shirt and pressed the ice pack he was holding to the small of his back.

Arthur actually yelped.

He arched back, and Merlin laughed so hard he sat down on the floor. Arthur stared at him, shocked, but unable to keep the slow smile that was spreading across his face at the sight of Merlin laughing on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Merlin wheezed. "I'm sorry, you-you were so serious!"

Arthur chuckled, getting down on his haunches by Merlin's face.

"You, are such a brat," he said fondly. "Here I am, worried about you, and you're sitting on the floor, laughing again at my expense."

"Oh come on," Merlin said, grinning up at him from the floor. "It was funny."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, laughed again.

"Alright, let's get you in bed. It's been a long night. You must be tired."

Truth be told, he wasn't. He was very much awake at the prospect of being in Arthur's room. Sharing his bed. But he also thought maybe they should talk a little too, and if he did the responsible thing and brought it up now, it would certainly kill the mood.

But he had to know.

If this last 24 hours was any indication, he wasn't going to handle letting Arthur go very well. He thought maybe he should get an idea of the timeline now, so he could prepare himself for a time when Arthur was no longer a part of his life.

"Hey," he said, snagging Arthur's hand, stopping him from rising to his feet. He wasn't looking at Arthur. He was looking at their hands, watching Arthur lace their fingers together. He had the impulse to draw Arthur's hand to his mouth, kiss the back of it. But he didn't. He only just managed to hang on as he spoke.

"We should talk about this. About everything."

Arthur studied his face, and Merlin was able to hold his gaze for a moment before letting it fall back to their hands.

"Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Arthur murmured. "We can talk in the morning, if you'd rather sleep."

"Would you rather sleep?" Merlin countered, squeezing his hand. Arthur was silent again, and then standing, pulled Merlin up to his feet with him.

"I'd rather be doing many things, Merlin, than having this discussion. Come to bed. We can talk there."

Merlin let Arthur give him a pair of sweatpants and the same cable knit sweater he had given to Merlin on the night he came to the apartment and spent the weekend with him. Merlin put them on, careful of his hand, and crawled into bed with Arthur.

Arthur slid into bed beside him, and as though it were the most natural thing to do, he pulled Merlin's back to his chest so that their hips cradled the others, and closed his arms around Merlin's waist. Merlin closed his eyes. Rested his head back on Arthur's solid chest and just breathed for a time.

"I can't turn my life upside down again," Merlin said quietly, when it seemed like the silence stretched on for nearly too long. He might have imagined it, but it seemed like Arthur held him tighter when he said it.

"Sigan's case nearly killed my mum. And you and I have played this game with the press before. We both know how bad it can get."

"I know," Arthur agreed quietly.

"I don't want to be the reason your reputation gets dragged into the gutter."

"You don't need to worry about me, Merlin. None of this was your fault."

Merlin took a deep breath. Tried to memorize the smell of sandalwood and cedar on Arthur's skin.

"You think I should cancel our appointments indefinitely," Arthur said. It wasn't a question.

"I don't know what else to do," Merlin admitted.

"Yeah," Arthur breathed into his hair. After a beat he said, very carefully. "What if I didn't go to Excalibur...what if you came here instead?"

Merlin half turned to look at Arthur over his shoulder, brows low over his eyes.

"What?"

"Would you feel comfortable with that? Leon could pick you up on Thursdays, same time. And you could come here."

Merlin turned back to the pillow, felt his heart hammering in his jaw.

"They know Thursdays were your regular night, even if they can't prove it."

"Then we'll change the day."

"Arthur," Merlin said, feeling dizzy.

"Tell me you don't want this," he said in Merlin's ear. "Tell me you don't want this and I will stop right now."

"God," Merlin moaned. "I'm not worth this kind of trouble."

"You're worth a lot more than this, Merlin."

He drew in a shuddering breath, unable to stop the flush at the words. But alarm bells were going off in his head. This was dangerous. He was too involved already. He was in Arthur's house, was acquainted with his security team. Arthur knew where he lived. There would be no protection from the fallout if anything were to happen. If anyone acquired conclusive proof that Arthur bought him one night a week.

The scar on his hip felt hot.

"I want this," he whispered. "I want this, Arthur, but I've done this before. You're..."

He stopped himself. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

"I'll what, Merlin?"

"You'll get tired of this. You'll get jealous of the time I spend at Excalibur. You can't protect me from every asshole that wants a piece of me. What happens when Leon isn't around next time? What will you do if you find out I was jumped again?"

Arthur got up on his elbow, looked down at Merlin, worry and anger at war in his eyes.

"Does that happen to you often?"

"No," Merlin replied honestly, turning over to better look Arthur in the eyes. "No, but if it did... What would you do?"

Arthur's hand was clenched in the fabric of Merlin's sweater. He let it go, slowly, pressing his palm flat against Merlin's abdomen instead.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"You're not like anyone I've ever known," Merlin said. "Sometimes I think I..." he struggled to find the words. A sense of deja vu rushed over him, making the bedroom hazey in the dark.

"You think you what, Merlin?" Arthur prompted, brushing his black curls out of his eyes.

"Sometimes I think I was born to serve you."

Arthur looked down at him in the dark. For a moment, Merlin thought Arthur could feel it too, that odd sense that they had done this before in some way or another. Like they had known each other for a thousand years, and would know each other for a thousand more. It was a feeling so big and so wonderful, it felt like sorrow.

"Serve me?" Arthur said, his voice quiet and intimate. "Merlin, you have to know, when we're together, you're not the servant."

Merlin shuddered, Arthur's hand sliding up under his borrowed sweater to press his warm palm to Merlin's aching ribs.

"I would," he breathed, surprising himself. "If you asked me to."

Arthur kissed him. He bowed to Merlin's lips and took all that he could from the meeting of their mouths - stealing Merlin's breath, his moans, his heartbeat. He kissed Merlin fiercely, like he was dying and this was the only way he'd survive. Merlin tangled his good hand in Arthur's hair, pressed him as close as they could get, and begged Arthur wordlessly not to stop. To never stop.

"Fuck," Arthur said, pulling back. They were both breathing hard, and Arthur's glasses had slid down his nose. "Tell me we can make this work. _Tell me_."

Merlin ran a hand down Arthur's cheek. Brushed his thumb along his bottom lip.

"You're a prince," Merlin said with a sad smile. "This can only work for so long, you know that."

"Forget who I am for one goddamn minute," Arthur snapped, sounding distraught. "Please. If I were just anyone else, if I worked at a convenience store or a deli in Camden, would this work?"

Merlin snorted.

"Arthur, I'm not saying this because it matters to me. It doesn't. You have the means to change the world, you know that? With your influence, your business? How do you think it would make me feel to see that shredded because of who I am?"

Arthur was silent, watching him. Merlin kissed him again, a light press of lips.

"I'm not saying no," he said. "I'm saying...we'll need to set some ground rules. We'll need to be careful. If you can live with that, I can live with that."

Arthur looked relieved and troubled. And through the turbulence of his reaction, he looked so happy, Merlin's throat felt tight, momentarily.

"I can live with that," he said after a moment.

"Okay," Merlin murmured, smiling.

"Okay," Arthur smiled back.

* * *

When Merlin woke the next day, it was almost noon, and he was honestly surprised he hadn't slept longer. Arthur was still pressed against his back, one arm draped over Merlin's hip, his face buried in the nape of Merlin's neck.

Merlin lay there, watching the sunlight play across the wood floor, and felt his anxiety ratchet up a notch in the silence. The reality of the previous night rushing back to him in technicolor detail.

None of this could work. Things like this didn't happen to people like him. He was a nobody. He fucked people for money and here was Arthur, trying to turn their lives into something they weren't. Trying desperately to fit a round peg into a square hole - and here was Merlin, encouraging him to do it. Knowing full well it couldn't be done. Just prolonging the moment before they both admitted it was over before they ever started.

" _Shit_ ," Merlin whispered, covering his eyes with one hand.

Arthur stirred behind him. Pressed up closer and settled back again into sleep.

Merlin held his breath. Prayed to any God who was listening to help him get through this. He would move mountains to stay like this, to keep things just as they had been. But he wasn't like Arthur. Arthur, who could convince the sun to stop in the sky for him. He was just Merlin, a University dropout with an ailing mother and into so much debt that if he were to try and get an average career he would never be rid of it. He was barely keeping the dam from breaking as it was. Maybe in ten years he could live like everyone else, but not now. Not yet.

He sucked in a breath. Willed his heart to slow. Arthur shifted again, his breathing changing slowly. Merlin felt the butterfly kiss of Arthur's lashes against his neck when he opened his eyes. Blinked away the sleep.

"Merlin?"

He pressed a hand to Merlin's chest, and Merlin realized how hard he was actually breathing. How heavy his chest felt under Arthur's palm.

"Merlin, what's wrong?"

"Sorry," Merlin whispered. He sounded like he was suffocating. "Sorry, for waking you."

Arthur leaned over him. Turned him on his back and that made it worse. He felt like he was falling.

"Tell me," he said hoarsely, willing Arthur to understand.

He did.

Arthur laid over him, settling between Merlin's legs so he could press the weight of his body down on Merlin's. His tone became sure, and unwavering.

"Merlin," he said. It sounded like a command. Merlin fixed his gaze on Arthur's. Reached out and took hold of his t-shirt in his hands. "You're safe. You called Gwen last night. She knows where you are. I'm right here. Everything is going to be fine. Do you understand me?"

Merlin nodded, feeling his body relax under Arthur's weight. His chest didn't feel as tight anymore. It was starting to feel like he could breathe again.

"Answer me, Merlin," Arthur said. Merlin swallowed his first reaction, the world coming back into sharp focus.

"I understand," he said, sounding like himself again. "I understand."

Arthur stayed like that, with him, until Merlin's hands unclenched from his shirt. Until the room stopped tilting at odd angles.

"I told you," Arthur murmured. "I never want you to feel unsafe. I'll let this go, I'll have Gwaine bring you home and I'll let this go right now if you're afraid Merlin."

"I'm not. I'm sorry, I just...I forgot where I was when I woke up."

It wasn't entirely a lie. But he didn't think he could explain what he was feeling without Arthur making a decision for both of them that he knew he'd regret. They were going to regret this eventually he was sure of it, but he was a coward. He didn't want to face that just now. He wasn't ready to let go of Arthur just yet.

"I'm okay," he said. "I'm okay, really."

"It's still early," Arthur told him, laying his head on Merlin's chest. "Let's go back to bed. I'll stay here."

Merlin barked out a laugh in surprise, wrapped his arms around Arthur's back.

"You prat, you'll crush me."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" Arthur mumbled, mock indignant, into Merlin's sweater.

Merlin laughed again, and it felt like the sun coming up.

"I'm saying you're a prat."

"I'm staying here nonetheless."

Merlin settled back against the pillows, wrapping his long legs around Arthur's waist, locking his ankles. Arthur lifted his head, one eyebrow raised. Merlin grinned at him.

"Now you're stuck."

Arthur snorted. Laid his head back down on Merlin's chest.

"Happily. Are you hungry?"

"I thought you wanted to go back to sleep?"

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin's waist, further entangling them.

"I'm awake now," he said.

"We can eat," Merlin said fondly. "But I want to stay here a little longer, if that's okay?"

He felt Arthur smile against his chest.

"Okay."

They laid still, and Merlin closed his eyes. Just on the edge of sleep he felt Arthur move. Warm hands slid up his jumper, brushing skin so lightly Merlin felt goosebumps rising on his stomach. He arched his back a little, eyes coming open when Arthur started kissing his neck, sucking gently on the sensitive space below his ear. Merlin's skin was instantly hot to the touch. He drew his hands up Arthur's shoulders, turned his head to kiss him properly but his mouth was caught in a gasp when Arthur's thumbs brushed his nipples. Arthur bit Merlin's bottom lip around a smile. Circled his nipples. Flicked them lightly with the pads of his fingers. Merlin moaned, half hard already, his thighs tightening around Arthur's waist. Arthur pushed up his jumper. Pressed his mouth to Merlin's ribcage. Sucked bruise into his skin and bit him.

Merlin cried out, his hips canting into Arthur's, legs falling open of their own accord. Arthur continued down, sucking at the skin inside Merlin's hip, forcing Merlin's thighs down to the bed with his hands. He kneaded Merlin's inner thighs hard as he nuzzled his length until Merlin was panting, his hands finding Arthur's hair.

Arthur obliged him, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down just low enough that he could take Merlin in his fist, stroking him firmly. Slowly. He kept his elbows against Merlin's thighs, making him buck, unable to gain any leverage. He stripped him harder, faster, until Merlin felt the ache in his hips, until he was hot all over and his body was trembling.

"God," he moaned, tossing his head back. "God, please...!"

Arthur slowed his hand. Squeezed the base of him and stopped.

Merlin cried out when Arthur sat up, stretched and looked around the room for all the world like he'd just woken up. Merlin got up on his elbows, stared at Arthur like he had three heads.

"What are you doing?"

Arthur looked him over, his gaze lingering on Merlin's straining cock before lifting to meet his eyes.

"It's late, we should get something to eat, don't you think?"

Merlin panted, dumbfounded.

"I...what?"

"Breakfast, Merlin. Keep up."

He slid off the end of the bed, picked up his glasses from the side table.

Merlin's brain hadn't caught up to the situation, even as Arthur started for the door.

"Are you coming?" Arthur asked agreeably.

"Wait!"

Merlin shot up out of the bed, stumbled to get his pants back up around his hips. Arthur turned, one eyebrow raised.

"You can't just...go have breakfast, I can't go downstairs like this!"

Arthur stepped into him, making him gasp.

"I can't?" He asked dangerously, his eyes sharp behind the frames of his glasses. Merlin whimpered, his cheeks burning.

"Arthur, please."

"Please, what?" He asked, low. "I should tie you to the bed like this, and make you wait here for me, just to prove to you that I _can_ have breakfast now if I want."

Merlin had to close his eyes. His knees felt weak.

Arthur threaded his fingers through his hair, tugged so that Merlin had to bend his neck back with a moan.

"Do you like that idea?"

"I'm sorry," Merlin whimpered again. "Please don't go."

"You didn't answer me, Merlin. You'll be lucky if I don't keep you this riled all day, waiting to come until you can't stand it anymore."

Merlin thought he might come then and there. His body pulsed with the hot ache of the idea.

"I..." Arthur pulled on his hair again. Forcing him down to the floor on his knees. He groaned, wrapped his hands around Arthur's thighs to ground himself. To stop the oncoming tide.

"Yes," he moaned. "I like the idea."

Arthur let go of his hair and he gasped, eyes coming open at the loss of pressure.

"You expect me to have breakfast comfortably, knowing you're here, aching for it?"

Merlin let out something akin to a whine.

"No, Arthur," he said. "I didn't mean - !"

"That's very selfish of you Merlin," he said, low and dark. "Maybe you should be the one who doesn't sit so comfortably through breakfast."

Merlin shuddered. If they didn't do something soon, if Arthur didn't touch him, he was going to explode. Arthur stared down at him, his hands at his sides. Merlin bowed his head, gripped Arthur's thighs a little harder.

"Color, Merlin," Arthur said.

"Green," Merlin said, utterly relieved. "Green."

Arthur took him by the chin, made him rise fully on his knees too look up at him.

"Stand in front of the bed, Merlin. Take off your clothes."

Merlin closed his eyes. Rose to do as he was told.

As he undressed, Arthur moved around the room behind him. Merlin was tempted to look, but he didn't, folding his clothes and setting them on the end of the bed. He was so hard, he thought if he stroked himself now, he might come. He tried to tamp it down. But Arthur was behind him, forcing his shoulders back. Making him stand up straight. The touch of him was electrifying. Merlin shivered.

"Stand up straight," he commanded. Merlin did what he could, but his hips jerked involuntarily when Arthur started a chest harness on him with a length of blue rope. He bit his lip when Arthur pulled his good arm over his head, bent at the elbow, and tied his wrist to the space between his shoulders. His other arm, he secured lower on the harness by his forearm, laddering the tie, careful not to put pressure on his bandaged wrist. When he was done, he tied Merlin's biceps to each end of the bed frame, forcing him chest down into the mattress, just far enough away from the bed to make it uncomfortable. He would have to use his core and his legs to stay in place. Already it was starting to burn. Merlin groaned into the bedspread.

He jerked involuntarily, when he felt the crop against his inner thigh, his eyes flying open.

"I'm going to hit you, Merlin, until I think you've earned anything else."

Merlin felt his breathing hitch, his vision narrowing to a single point on the wall opposite of him.

"You're free to make any noise you want," Arthur said, quiet, like he was telling him a secret. "But I wouldn't. These walls aren't sound proof. Gwaine will come in to check on us."

Merlin choked on a moan so lewd it surprised even him. Arthur leaned over him, letting him feel his weight on his back.

"And if that happens," he said darkly, around a smile. "We'll have to stop."

Merlin rocked back against the ropes. Whimpered pathetically.

Arthur tapped him with the crop, making him jump.

"I'll be disappointed, if we have to stop. Do you think you can show some restraint? Prove to me you're not selfish?"

"Yes," Merlin gasped. "I can, Arthur. I can."

Arthur snapped the crop against his calf. Merlin yelped in surprise, moaned when Arthur stepped back from him. He tsk'd, running the crop up the back of his leg.

"Not very convincing, Merlin."

Before he could respond, Arthur struck him hard on the back of his thigh. The crack of the leather meeting his skin echoed around the room. Merlin barely managed to stifle a yell.

Arthur gave a thoughtful hum. Struck him again across his ass. Merlin groaned, turning his face into the bed. Arthur struck him again, and again, sometimes twice in a row, sometimes so hard Merlin was sure it wouldn't matter if he were silent, Gwaine would hear the crop from down the stairs. Sometimes he only tapped the rising welts on Merlin's reddened ass, until his thighs trembled in anticipation of the blow.

Merlin gagged himself on Arthur's duvet. Bit into the blanket to stifle his cries. His cock twitched.

When Arthur slapped him, palm striking the crease of his ass and his thigh, he choked on the blanket between his teeth. Fire erupted over his skin. Arthur slapped him again, in the same spot, harder. And again. Merlin shrieked into the bed. Arthur kept hitting him, until the pain blurred into white noise, and he was limp in ropes, and he couldn't stop it. If Arthur hit him again...

He held up two fingers. Arthur smoothed his hands over his shaking hips, pulled him back so he was forced to straighten his legs. He hadn't realized he'd slouched forward to escape the blows, bracing his knees on the baseboard of the bed.

He worked his jaw free of the covers, damp with his saliva, and gasped, pressing his cheek into the wet spot. Trying to see Arthur over his shoulder.

"Wait," he croaked. "Wait, please, I can't take anymore, I'll come. Please."

Arthur massaged his hips stepped in between his spread legs so he could use Arthur to support his lower body. He trembled, let out tiny, whimpered moans.

"Maybe I _should_ hit you until you come," he said. "That would certainly make an impression on someone as selfish as you've been this morning."

Merlin hitched on a sob. He was still moaning. He was so hard. But he wanted Arthur inside him. He wouldn't be satisfied if he came now.

"Please," he whimpered. "Please, no."

"You should see yourself," Arthur said reverently. He began kneading Merlin's ass, digging thumbs into tender welts and deeper bruises. "You're covered in my handprints."

Merlin felt his knees give a little. Arthur pulled him back up.

"You were so good for me, keeping yourself quiet," he murmured, rubbing circles into the small of Merlin's back. With his free hand, he circled Merlin's hole, pressing against it but not inside. Merlin moaned. Bit his lip. Desperately tried not to push back into Arthur's hand.

"Still so demanding though," Arthur told him, sounding disappointed. Merlin gasped, trying to keep his voice down when Arthur slid a finger inside him. He worked Merlin open slowly, digging his free hand into Merlin's bruises, making him jerk, trying to twist away.

"Oh," he breathed, desperately, when Arthur made it to three. Sliding in and out methodically. "Oh, not there, I can't..."

Arthur did it anyway, crooking his fingers. Dragging them out.

Merlin barely had time to turn his face back into the bed. Stifling the 'Fuck!' Arthur tore from his throat. His body lit up, giving tiny abortive thrusts back into Arthur's hand.

"Hmmm," Arthur sighed, as if he were contemplating what next to watch on the telly.

"You can take three more," he said. "Don't you dare come, or this is all you'll get today."

Merlin sobbed into the bed.

"If you're good, maybe I'll let you come with me."

Merlin shuddered when Arthur slid his fingers back inside of him. Dragged them out again. His chest came off the bed, jerking the ropes taught. Arthur pressed his fingers back inside, and kept them there. Realizing what he was about to do, Merlin cried out, trying not to yell and half failing.

"No, please I can't! Arthur please!"

Arthur slapped him with his free hand, fingers still inside him. Merlin cried out, unable to check the sound, his cock straining between his legs. Beads of precome collected at the tip. He shook, twisting in his ropes.

Arthur slapped him again and Merlin saw stars, his mouth open in a silent scream. He was going to come. He bent his knees, tried to stop it. He was so close. So close.

Arthur slapped him again, hard, so hard his fingers drew back inside of Merlin, and the pale body twisted with screech, muffling the sound with the bed covers one last time, because he was falling over that last rise, and if Arthur touched him now, if he moved or breathed on the back of Merlin's sweat damp neck he would come. He would come harder than he'd ever come in his life, he was sure of it. He lay with his chest against the mattress, teeth clenched around the duvet and shook, his whole body a live wire.

And Arthur, perfect, psychic Arthur, held absolutely still and waited him out. When he finally sagged against the bed, his whole body going limp in the ropes, Arthur removed his hands, and pulled his hips back gently, making Merlin moan.

"Jesus Christ, Merlin," Arthur said reverently. "That was perfect. You were so good for me."

He was still showering Merlin with praises, when he pressed the head of his cock to Merlin's entrance. Merlin let out a guttural wail when he rocked inside. Threw his hips back as much as he was able.

"Say it's okay," he whimpered, when Arthur seated himself entirely. "Please, Arthur, please..."

He cried out when Arthur pulled back, thrust into him hard, rocking him in his ties.

"Not yet," Arthur hissed. He set a punishing pace, pounding into Merlin, forcing him to stay still with his hands tight in the ropes around Merlin's waist.

Merlin sobbed. He was right there, and he wasn't good at this, he couldn't stop it, it was too much and Arthur was a fast, hot weight inside him, and it was so good. He felt the steel cord in his belly begin to fray.

"Please Arthur," he cried out, rolling his hips back. "Please, I'm...I'm...!"

It was right there, he felt his whole body tensing, and Arthur wasn't stopping, and it was too much.

He couldn't speak any more. Every sound Arthur forced out of him was a hitched staccato moan. A mewling aching whimper that shot down his spine. When Arthur thrust into him then, he struck the chord in Merlin, and the pale body arched up off the bed, eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Arthur took him in the same place again, and slapped him hard as he drew back.

"Come for me, Merlin," he said. The words thundered down Merlin's aching back.

He came hard, the scream locked in his throat and carrying only a broken abortive sound out against the inside of his teeth. He came and Arthur thrust back into him, once, twice, and he was still coming, and Arthur let out a cry to the ceiling and came inside him, his rhythm faltering as his hips stuttered against Merlin's.

Merlin nearly shrieked at full volume when Arthur took hold of his cock. But he'd reached up, taking Merlin around the mouth with his free hand, and muffled his screaming as he pumped him in his fist, hard and fast, still inside Merlin and thrusting against him.

Merlin's screaming was muted against Arthur's palm, but not by much. He shook, back bent and head back, his oversensitive cock filling in Arthur's relentless fist. He sobbed, his whole body aching and jerked in surprise when he came again, Arthur pulling the orgasm out of him, until he was spent entirely, whimpering into Arthur's hand. He heard the blood rushing in his ears, his eyes rolling up into his head, and he hit the wall, a freight train slamming him back into dead silence, his pupils blowing wide, body crashing upwards through the surface of a still black lake and then he was falling, _falling_

Gone.

When Merlin came back, Arthur was undoing the last of his chest harness, his bandaged hand up by his head on a pillow. He was laying on his stomach, and he was faintly aware that he was shaking.

"Merlin," Arthur was saying, somewhere nearby. "I need you to answer me, love. Please, anything, will do."

Merlin thought Arthur sounded so concerned just then, he wanted to hold him, because he was fine, he was more than fine, he was so high, he'd have to look down to see heaven. Arthur couldn't be sad. He couldn't be.

The ties came free and Arthur was tossing them off the bed, hands running through Merlin's hair, running across his shoulders.

"Merlin, please? Come on, love just tell me you're okay."

Merlin made a soft sound in the back of his throat, and Arthur stopped moving, waited with his hands poised on Merlin's back. In his hair.

"M'okay," he managed weakly. "Don't...be sad."

Arthur laughed breathlessly, lowered his head to Merlin's shaking back.

"God, Merlin. You're extraordinary. You were so good for me."

Merlin preened, closing is eyes and grinning like a fool.

"M'good," he said.

"The best," Arthur agreed, stroking his hair. Merlin kept smiling, even as his body redoubled it's efforts to shake him limb from limb.

Arthur braced him. Drew the weighted blanket over his body and kept playing with his hair, stroking the back of his neck, the shell of his ear. Merlin groaned, tilted his head to give Arthur better access, tried desperately not to fall asleep.

"You okay?" He asked, his words dreamy and sleep-slurred. Arthur laughed, surprised.

"I'm perfect, love. Rest now, I've got you."

Merlin did, drifting in and out of a doze until the pain of his thighs and his ass couldn't be ignored any longer. He blinked open his eyes. Shifted a little and hissed in pain as the blanket slid across his wounds.

Arthur leaned over, pressed a kiss to his temple. Merlin groaned.

"Hurts," he said, by way of explanation. Arthur lifted the blanket and set it aside. Merlin shivered, drawing his good arm under him, against his chest.

"Can you stand up for me, love?" Arthur asked quietly. Merlin moaned. He didn't think he could.

So Arthur guided him onto his side and set his long arms around Arthur's shoulders and neck, and then lifted Merlin off the bed.

Merlin pressed himself as close to Arthur as he could manage. Let himself be carried to the bathroom, where he was set on his feet inside of an enormous Tuscan tiled shower with two shower heads, facing each other from opposite walls. Arthur steadied him, and then, fully clothed, turned on the water. He let Merlin lean into his chest, the hot water a gentle cascade on his sore back and buttocks. They stayed like that for so long, Merlin thought he might have fallen asleep again. He held the back of Merlin's head in his palm, let him rest his face against his neck.

When the shower was turned off, Merlin helped Arthur out of his wet clothes, kissing him, all of him, because he couldn't help himself. And when he settled on his knees, took Arthur into his mouth, Arthur groaned, the sound setting Merlin's bones back into place.

He swallowed when Arthur came, flattening his tongue against the base of Arthur's throbbing cock. Moaned.

Arthur cupped his face in his hands, stared down at Merlin like Merlin was something precious. Like he was a gift.

Merlin smiled back. His pupils were still blown, his gaze slightly unfocused. Arthur brushed Merlin's wet curls out of his eyes.

"Up on your feet, love," he murmured.

Merlin did as he was told.


	11. Cavendish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur try to find their new normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised 💋

They settled on Saturdays.

The adjustment was an easy one, Arthur cancelled his regular appointment on Thursdays and Merlin continued working at Excalibur as though nothing had happened. There was a small difference in his work schedule and that was, Leon was hired as his new watchman.

This took some doing on all their parts - but it was the only way to establish a regular routine that wouldn't look strange to any reporters, and Gwaine was known to work with Arthur. Leon was just private security, and when Merlin went into the office to request a change, complete with resume, background checks and references, it went over just about as smoothly as it could have. It wasn't exactly unusual for an escort at Excalibur to request a specific watchman for their shifts. Merlin had worked with Lancelot exclusively at Avalon under the same kind of agreement. But Agravaine was a senior member of Excalibur security and when he was assigned to Merlin, even though they were clearly incompatible, Agravaine had never outwardly hurt him, and that seemed good enough.

Now, the arrangement with Leon was simple. He worked only for Merlin, only on the days and during the hours Merlin worked. He wasn't on call to Excalibur, and even though he was paid by them, he was being paid a significant amount more by Arthur to take the hit to his regular schedule. Excalibur didn't need to know that. If they thought it was odd that he didn't negotiate his salary with them, and only elected to work with a single escort for a pretty stark pay cut compared to the other watchmen on staff, they didn't belabor the point. And Leon was an excellent candidate. They had it finalized in roughly two weeks.

So when Leon walked Merlin to the employee entrance on the nights he worked, and out again to his car to take him home, what reporters remained trying to catch a glimpse of Arthur and Merlin together, only saw Merlin and a new watchman, going about their every day routine.

There were a few nasty articles written about him in those weeks, articles about Sigan resurfaced, and as a result he lost a few of his regular clients. There was one article written in the Mirror Online, that came pretty close to the truth, guessing that Leon was actually a member of Arthur's staff. But it didn't make many waves. No one could tie Leon to Arthur so it seemed like so much conspiracy theory after a short time. What didn't fade, were the catcalls he got on the street when he walked to the grocery, or the looks he got at the bank when he stopped in to deposit his money. The hands on him at the bar when he stopped in for drinks with Gwen some nights. Once, a couple passing him on the sidewalk both grabbed his ass as they walked by, and then high-fived each other as they continued on around the corner. Merlin stared after them, dumbfounded. He was too shocked to say anything.

He told himself that would fade eventually. That part would pass. But it made him angry and anxious to walk to the corner store down the road from his apartment or the cafe across the street, and none of it was fair. His consolation was that the reports were starting to fade, and Arthur and he had won this round. Merlin still got to see Arthur once a week, and no one had seen them together. The tabloids were running out of things to print.

Merlin thought that Leon would be upset, that he'd landed the watchman role after their conversation at the cottage, but Elyan told Merlin he'd volunteered.

"He was adamant it be him," Elyan said in his quiet way.

Merlin, surprised, didn't know what to say. Seeing the look on his face, Elyan smiled one of his rare smiles and opened the front door to the Pendragon Estate for him, but said nothing more.

Merlin wanted to ask Leon about it, but they had found a comfortable rhythm, and he didn't want to jeopardize it by getting into another fight. It turned out, he didn't have to. One night, after Leon picked him up and they were heading to Excalibur, he brought it up on his own.

"Elyan told me, you thought I'd be upset, working this job for you."

Merlin opened his mouth, closed it. Flushed a little.

"Well..."

Leon smiled, but never took his eyes off the road. His face was haloed in green as they passed under a traffic signal.

"You didn't say anything, about the way I treated you at the cottage," he continued. "Not to Gwaine, not to Arthur. You must have known, that if you had said something, I would have been out of a job."

He hadn't known, actually. He wasn't so full of himself as to think that anything he said would sway Arthur's choices regarding his personal staff. What he had known, was at the very least, Arthur would have spoken to Leon about it personally. At the time, it didn't seem worthwhile. In his experience the people who thought of him as a hooker and nothing else, would always see him that way. He didn't have the time or the energy to put into changing their minds. He'd wasted enough time on that in the past.

"I couldn't have known that," Merlin said quietly. Leon gave him a quick look before turning back to the road. A look that said, 'Bullshit.'

Merlin leaned back in the seat, his back tense.

"I know what it's like," he said after a moment. "To have your life and livelihood at the mercy of one person's words. I don't want that kind of power over anyone. And I can't say that I wouldn't have been asking the same questions in your position. I don't blame you, for doing your job."

Leon turned down a side street, continued on for several blocks before he addressed Merlin's comment.

"That's why I volunteered," he said. "I was wrong about you, Merlin. And I'll be happy to straighten anyone out for you who makes the same mistake I did."

He flashed Merlin a grin, to which Merlin could only laugh, still surprised by the whole exchange. He felt relieved and a little sad, because Leon was a good person, and he wished sometimes that the good people he met didn't have to know him in the context of his job at Excalibur. It would have been nice, he thought, to have Leon as a friend.

Agravaine was the biggest wrench in the whole thing. He put up a fight to stay in charge of Merlin, because of his seniority. Merlin didn't understand why that was necessary, without Arthur on the books; officially, he wasn't one of the top performers for the club anymore. It was a shock to learn that Merlin had originally been assigned Agravaine because of his past history at Avalon. He was a potential liability to them.

In the end Leon was hired and Agravaine reassigned, but sometimes Agravaine would still be in the lobby when Merlin started a shift, or in the back hall where the lockers were when Leon and him came in through the employee entrance. He was always looking sour and agitated and it made Merlin nervous.

That Thursday, Leon picked up Merlin at his apartment and Gwen waved them off from the door. She was home with the flu, and hadn't been at work with Merlin for 3 days, but she was starting to get her color back. He hoped she would feel better soon.

They drove to Excalibur in Leon's charger in relative, comfortable silence after they'd said their hellos. Merlin was so lost in thought that he actually jumped when Leon punched him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Hey, Balinor, you in there?"

"What?" Merlin blinked, rubbing his shoulder. "Sorry, I was thinking."

Leon eyed him as he turned up the long road that would take them into the city.

"Everything alright?"

Merlin glanced at him and then back out the window.

"...Yeah, I'm fine. I just got a call today I forgot I was expecting."

Leon mulled that over for a minute.

"How do you forget a call you're expecting?"

Merlin snorted.

"Yeah, I mean, when you say it like that...I just got in touch with an old friend at the University of Warwick and I sort of forgot about it. He was away and he only just got the message. He called me back this afternoon."

When the silence fell, Merlin realized how that sounded, and fumbled to explain.

"I'm not dating him, it's not that kind of - "

"Merlin," Leon cut him off. "You don't have to explain anything to me. I get it."

"No, really. I called one of my old professors, Dr. Giaus. He's the head of the Maths department over there. I wanted to see what the likelihood was of being readmitted to finish my degree."

Leon raised his eyebrows.

"What did he say?"

"He said we should sit down and talk about it. He wants to meet me for coffee next week sometime."

"Well that's good, isn't it?" Leon asked, sensing the hesitation in Merlin's tone. "He's your friend, so he can help you, right?"

Merlin tilted his head to the side and then the other with a grimace.

"Maybe. It's not like re-enrolling in High School."

"So what, you were a few credits off from getting your Bachelors? How hard could it be to convince them to let you finish?"

Merlin was oddly quiet, refusing to look anywhere but out the window.

"Merlin?" Leon prompted. He sighed.

"It wasn't...I was a dissertation away from receiving my Doctorate. I've been out of school and not working in any field relevant to my other degrees for almost four years now. It's not exactly like riding a bike."

Leon couldn't stop his jaw from hitting the floor.

"You...how old are you?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, his expression neutral.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Don't be an ass, Balinor."

Merlin stared at him for another moment, until they were almost to the driveway that led to Excalibur before he said, quietly.

"I'm 26."

Leon did the math in his head. Merlin watched him do it.

"How the fuck are you almost within arms reach of a Ph.D? You would have been 22."

Merlin didn't answer him. Leon parked and he got out of the car.

"Merlin, seriously, that's insane, what..." he stopped, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Merlin was quiet too, looking around the back parking lot. Leon swept the area quickly, frowning.

"There's no one here," Merlin said after a long moment. Leon frowned.

For nearly two months since the news had broken that Arthur Pendragon might be seeing an escort at the exclusive sex club, Excalibur, there had been reporters at both the employee entrance and the main entrance to the club. Today, inexplicably, there was no one to meet them at the door.

Leon looked around again, and then formally took up his place at Merlin's shoulder.

"Maybe it's finally blown over?" Leon said.

Merlin was watching the shadows that were edging closer to the parking lot at either side of the blacktop.

"Maybe," he agreed.

But all it did was make them both wary. Agravaine was inside already, checking the locker room and getting ready to take one of the girls upstairs. He ignored them when they walked by, but Leon smiled and waved anyway.

Tonight, Merlin was going to be working a new client that had cleared the week before for his kink profile. It had been a little while since he'd had anyone new in that arena, if you didn't count Arthur. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, actually. Ever since he'd played with Arthur, he'd started to think of Arthur as his Dom. It was uncomfortable to think of anyone else in that role. Which, if Arthur wasn't still paying him, would be bad for business. But since he was, Merlin didn't much care. 

He wondered if he should talk to Gwen about taking his kink profile down.

Leon opened the door for him, and he sat waiting by the window for seven o'clock to roll around. He crossed his legs and bounced his foot, thinking about Giaus and what Arthur was doing and if Gwen was still watching that horrid soap opera she'd had on the telly all week.

When Leon knocked and opened the door again, he barely remembered to stand up. He told himself to get into character, but the effort was strained.

The man who entered was well dressed, but not well tailored. Merlin had had too many dealings with Arthur not to notice a graceful cut to a suit anymore, and while it fit him, the navy fabric didn't sit against his waist or his shoulders like it was made to fit him. He was shorter than Merlin, but that wasn't so strange, and had neatly groomed sandy brown hair and a pair of striking, tawny eyes. His skin was pale, though not as pale as Merlin's. And there was something on his hands. It looked like he might have been holding a pen that had exploded recently.

"You must be Alinor," Merlin said reflexively, stepping up to meet the man.

Alinor looked around the room, smiling when Merlin addressed him. He didn't acknowledge Merlin otherwise, simply walked further into the room, sliding his hands into his pockets. Took a look around.

Merlin stared flatly at the man for nearly 30 seconds before he tried again.

"You can call me Emrys," he prompted. "Can I take your coat?"

The man was running a hand over the bedspread. Merlin ground his teeth. This was going to be one of those assholes who refused to speak to him unless he addressed them by 'Sir' or unless he was on his knees. He didn't have the patience for that tonight.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to try and initiate some sort of contact, Alinor spoke.

"Take off your clothes. I want you here," he said. Merlin took in a breath through his nose. Men who spoke to him like that never lasted long anyway. He could put up with this for a night.

He moved to the edge of the bed and did as he was told. Alinor watched him, but he looked distant. Like he wasn't really interested. Merlin didn't care. He set his clothes aside in a loose bundle, just to see if the guy would ask him to fold them. He didn't.

Merlin was about to take off his boxers when the man held up a hand.

"That's good enough."

Good enough? Merlin waited. Trying to decide if the man could see the utter annoyance on his face. He had to work to keep his expression natural and sympathetic.

"Kneel."

Merlin did so, facing the bed. He had to close his eyes. He was not excited by this encounter in the least.

"Do you have the handcuffs?" Alinor asked abruptly. Merlin was tempted to be shitty about the question. He had to work to straighten out his attitude.

"If you requested anything specific, it will be in the cabinet by the window." Merlin said.

_Like it explained on your acceptance form, you ass._

"Get them for me then," Alinor said.

Merlin got up off his knees, his annoyance growing exponentially during the walk to the cabinet and back. He returned with a set of leather cuffs which he handed to Alinor and then knelt again by the foot of the bed. Alinor secured him to the posts of the bed, and then walked around behind him for a minute. Merlin tried not to groan.

"Is everything okay?" He said, trying to sound like he actually cared. If the guy just wanted to look that was fine. But he'd scheduled himself for a 4 hour session and Merlin had limits. He wasn't going to sit around with his back to the man, tied to the end of a bed for 4 hours. He would give him 30 minutes to get serious and after that he would suggest they order room service or something.

Suddenly, a hand was under his chin, stuffing a wad of fabric into his mouth. Merlin gagged, letting out a cry in protest when he realized it was his own tshirt. What a fucking asshole.

"You don't need to speak, Merlin," he said. "All you have to do is nod."

Merlin started desperately to try and spit out the fabric between his teeth but Alinor held him under the jaw, his head pressed back into Alinor's abdomen. He felt his blood run cold at the sound of his real name. Flailed against the cuffs that kept him tied down to the bed. The hand on his shoulder keeping him on his knees.

"Have you or are you currently employed by Arthur Pendragon?"

Merlin started screaming. He just needed a little leverage. Just one knee.

The gag muffled the sound. Alinor smiled down at him.

"If you don't answer me, we'll just continue with the night until you do."

_The Hell they would._

Merlin wrenched his knee up. Slammed it into the bedframe three times in a row. Alinor frowned, and Merlin simply panted, looking up into those tawny eyes, suddenly relaxed.

Leon kicked the door in.

Alinor, startled, immediately dropped Merlin's head and Merlin spat, forcing the tshirt free. Leon was across the room already his hand on the back of Alinor's neck as he forced him up against the wall.

Merlin pulled in a breath, closed his eyes.

"Get him out," Merlin rasped. "He's a reporter."

He didn't know that for sure. But it was the only way to let Leon know this had to do with Arthur, without saying it out loud. He saw the tension in Leon's neck.

"Get your hands off of me!" Alinor shouted. "I'm a paying customer!"

"Not if you assault one of our escorts you piece of shit," Leon snapped. He wrenched the man's hands down behind his back and marched him to the door. Merlin watched them go, angry and shaking a little.

"I'll be right back," Leon called. "Just want to make sure this asshole makes it all the way to the door."

Merlin snorted. Wanted to make sure he had the guy's license plate number, more like.

He shifted on his knees and then, all at once, realized he was still cuffed to the bed. He jerked his arms, rattled the bedposts.

Leon was coming back. He was.

Merlin stood, slowly, his legs shaking, and tried not to count the minutes ticking by. He wasn't getting enough air. His whole body felt cold.

He closed his eyes. Tried to breathe but it wasn't working. If he could get a little more air in, he would start screaming, but he couldn't. It was like breathing through a straw.

He didn't want to cry. That would make it worse. He jerked at his arms again but they wouldn't come free and they were buckled, he couldn't get them loose by himself and even if he started screaming no one would come. No one would come because they knew what he did for a living. No one would come. 

Merlin tipped his head back, tried to give himself more space to breathe but all he could manage was a wheeze on the inhale. And then, Leon was there.

"Merlin?" Leon asked, running across the room. "Jesus, what's wrong?"

"Off," Merlin hissed, jerking his arms. "Get them off!"

Leon unbuckled the cuffs, clearly shaken, and Merlin ripped his arms free and sat down. It was more like falling down, but he needed to lean up against something, so he pressed his shoulder to the bedframe and heaved for air he couldn't seem to reach.

Leon crouched down, looked him over.

"I'm fine," Merlin said, aware his entire body was shaking. He wanted Leon to stop staring at him. If Leon didn't stop looking so concerned and worried, Merlin was sure he'd start crying.

"Like Hell, Merlin," he said softly. "How can I help?"

Merlin shook his head. There was nothing.

"Just stay here," he murmured. "It will pass."

Leon settled down against the bed frame at his back. That was good. Merlin could feel him. But he could also close his eyes. Let himself cry a little, without Leon seeing. He felt like he was dying. His chest ached.

Leon's phone rang. He picked it up and then handed it to Merlin.

"It's for you," he said. "Answer it and let me help you get under the covers, you're shaking like a leaf."

Merlin blinked. Answered the call.

"Hello?"

He sounded so small, even to himself.

"Merlin," Arthur said. Merlin was halfway to his feet, Leon's arm around his waist, when he had to stop. Put a hand over his eyes.

"It's fine," he choked out. "I'm okay, really. Nothing happened."

"Merlin," Arthur said softly. "It's okay, love. I'm right here."

Merlin _did_ have to suppress a sob at that. Leon lifted him from under the knees then, unperturbed, and carried him the rest of the way to the bed. Merlin turned over, let himself be covered.

"Leon texted me," Arthur was saying. "He didn't know what was wrong."

"You didn't tell him," Merlin said. It wasn't a question. Arthur hesitated.

"I didn't think you wanted me to share that, no."

Merlin pulled himself under the covers furthur, relieved to feel Leon pull himself up to sit on the bed at Merlin's back. He was sitting up against the headboard, playing solitaire on a small tablet he kept in the inside pocket of his coat. Legs crossed at the ankle, his warm thigh bracing Merlin's shaking spine through the covers.

"Thank you," Merlin whispered. "I'll tell him."

"He came back," Arthur told him. Merlin nodded. Realized he was holding his breath and let it out in a rush.

"Yeah, he did."

"Tell me about your day, love."

Merlin gave the phone a watery smile.

"Anything about it?" He quipped. "Or from start to finish?"

Arthur chuckled. "Anything."

"It was pretty boring," he warned. "I didn't see a moose today." He could hear the smile on Arthur's lips when he answered.

"If you had I'd have a few questions for you about what you do in your free time."

Merlin huffed. He told Arthur about how Gwen was down with the flu, how she'd been watching the same soap opera for three days straight.

"Now even I care if it's Darnel's baby or not," he said, his words still a little pale. "It's obscene."

Behind him, Leon snorted. Merlin reached around and punched him in the thigh.

Arthur laughed.

He told him about how he'd spent most of the day at home, how he'd gone to the cafe for a cup of tea just for something to do other than watch more bad television. How they were playing Howl's Moving Castle on one of the cafe monitors and how he'd gotten stuck watching that instead because he loved that movie so much and generally what a waste the day had been.

"What's Howl's Moving Castle?"

Merlin told him, but refused to give him any details about the movie.

"You'll just have to watch it with me sometime, if you're that interested."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said. He did feel better. He was warmer and he wasn't shaking anymore. It felt like he could breathe again.

"Will you come here tonight?"

"Is that a good idea?"

"Come to Cavendish then."

Merlin smiled. Rubbed his eyes.

"It will be late," he warned. "I still have to work."

"I can wait," Arthur said. Something about the words made Merlin's skin heat. He had to close his eyes when Arthur continued. "But I can't guarantee you'll like the consequences, for making me wait, Merlin."

"Okay," Merlin breathed. He was working very hard not to make any embarrassing noises while Leon was sitting behind him. "I'll come to Cavendish after my shift is over."

"Good," Arthur said. "I'll see you there."

Merlin smiled. Hung up the phone.

He handed it back to Leon, and then sat up, rubbing his face. Leon took the phone and leaned his head back, looking Merlin over.

"You don't have to keep working tonight, you know."

"Yes I do," Merlin sighed. "I can't afford not to."

He pulled himself out from under the covers, pulled on his black jeans before heading to the bathroom to wash his face. When he came back out, Leon was playing solitaire again. Merlin walked around the bed. Crossed his arms. Nudged Leon's thigh with his knee.

"Thank you," he said. Leon glanced up.

"Anytime," he said sincerely.

"Did you get his license plate?"

Leon grinned.

"Gwaine is running it now. Where to next?"

Merlin looked around the room, arms still crossed. He stared at the wet crumpled mess that was his t-shirt.

"I need to go downstairs and change," he said. "Then we'll be in room four."

Leon swung his legs off the bed. They moved to the door as one, Merlin in the lead, and Leon at his shoulder.

* * *

The rest of the night was uneventful. He worked two more rooms that night and his last appointment went quickly - it always did. He didn't know much about the woman, but he suspected she was a single mother and she never stayed long.

Leon and he made their way down to the car, and this time, when they left, there were a crowd of reporters again. They'd gotten closer to the employee exit then they had dared come in a while. Merlin flinched at the first camera flash and Leon was in front of him, his free hand around Merlin's waist, his other arm up to push back the tide of cameras and questions.

"Mr. Balinor, is it true you assaulted a client tonight?"

"What?!" Merlin jerked back against Leon's arm.

"Keep walking Merlin," Leon said low in his ear.

"Mr. Balinor is it true that Arthur cancelled his appointment?"

"Was it because of your proven aggression toward your clientele?"

Merlin lurched back against Leon at that, struggling against his arm.

"My _what?!_ "

"Merlin!" Leon called, pulled him back as they came down into the parking lot. Merlin could barely see the charger, there were so many people.

Leon got him into the car, but he was so angry he couldn't speak. He glowered in the rearview mirror as they started to back the car up regardless of the people standing behind it. Merlin waited until they were out of sight of Excalibur and the crowd on the street before he started punching the dashboard.

"Jesus!" Leon shouted, reaching over and pulling Merlin's hands away from the dash.

"Fuck!" Merlin yelled. He jerked his arms back, cracking his elbow against the window.

"Calm the fuck down, Merlin. You'll set off the airbag!"

And for some reason, that was the funniest thing Merlin had heard in a lifetime. He leaned back against the seat of the car and laughed so hard there were tears in his eyes. Leon was frowning at the road.

"This is such a fucking mess," Merlin laughed, sinking down into the seat. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"What are you talking about?"

"This!" Merlin threw out his arms, angry again. "All of this! Like I could go back to school and be a normal fucking person and maybe..."

He trailed off, sighed. Stopped his raging abruptly. Leon's gaze softened.

"I don't know what you want, Merlin," Leon said, quietly. "But I've never seen him like this before."

Merlin glanced at him, wary.

"Who, Arthur?"

"Yeah," Leon said. "He's not a saint, he's been in a few relationships and he's had his fair share of one night stands. But he's never committed to a single person the way he does with you, Merlin. I've never seen him this...I don't know. At ease, before."

Merlin felt warm all over, and a little afraid at the words.

"He's never brought anyone to the Estate you know," Leon added.

Merlin leaned his head against the window.

"I'm going to ruin him," Merlin whispered. "It's only a matter of time."

"Is that what you want?" Leon asked coldly. "To ruin him?"

"No!" Merlin came up off the window so fast he nearly hit his head on the door. "No of course not!"

"Then stop whining about it," Leon said. "We're going to figure this out, you just have to give me and Gwaine some time."

"I'm not whining about it Leon, I'm being realistic!"

"Jesus, do you love the guy or not?"

"Yes!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Merlin felt everything around him come to a screeching halt. He threw up his hands. Covered his mouth and his nose with shaking fingers. Tried to remember how to breathe.

"I don't..." he whispered through his fingers. "I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean to say that yes, you love him?" Leon prompted.

"Stop saying that!"

"Why? Is it not true?"

Merlin felt like disappearing. He wanted to crawl into a hole and vanish forever.

"Stop saying it, because it doesn't matter!" He snapped. "He's Arthur Pendragon, and I'm a fucking prostitute. There's no fairytale ending here, Leon. There just isn't."

"Says who?"

"If you say anything to him about this conversation I'll never forgive you," Merlin cut in. They were approaching the drive to Cavendish Manor.

"It's not my conversation to have, Merlin."

They said nothing more about it as Leon parked the car and opened the door for him.

"I'll be back to pick you up in the morning. Call if you need anything."

Merlin nodded, watched him get back in the car before he turned and opened the door to the cottage.

Arthur was looking over some paperwork at the round table in the kitchen when Merlin set his bag down and toed off his boots. He glanced up, smiled and stood to meet Merlin halfway through the kitchen, sliding his hands easily into place at Merlin's waist. Merlin drew in a long breath, taking in the smell of cedar and sandalwood, and closed his arms around Arthur's shoulders.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Arthur murmured into his ear.

"No," Merlin said. "I'm okay."

They rocked a little, neither of them ready to let go, before Merlin leaned back and brushed Arthur's hair back away from his face.

"Have you been awake all this time, waiting for me?"

Arthur smiled a little sheepishly. Merlin grinned.

"What are you working on?" He said. Arthur glanced over his shoulder at the table behind them.

"I'm still having trouble, with those accounts I told you about before. I talked to Bevidere this week and with the new quarter financials I just...I don't know what I'm looking at anymore. Everyone says it's all fine, my finance team and my VP of Sales but...I don't know."

He sighed, laughed a little and shook his head.

"It's nothing, boring work stuff."

"Show me," Merlin said. Leaned in impulsively, and kissed Arthur's neck. Arthur groaned, wrapped his arms around Merlin's shoulders and let Merlin walk them back to the table, still wrapped up in each other.

"Do we have to?" Arthur said into his hair. Merlin laughed.

"No, but maybe I can help."

Arthur stopped when his back hit the table. Leaned back to look at Merlin. Those glacial blue eyes crinkled affectionately.

"What?"

"Kiss me," Arthur said. "I've waited up all night to see you."

Merlin smiled wider. Kissed him like he asked.

Merlin was seated at the table, his knees up, leaning over the papers. He had a notepad by his elbow, tapping a pen on the paper as he looked over the reports Arthur had scattered all over the table.

Arthur leaned over the other end of the table, scrolling through files on his laptop.

Merlin bit down on the end of the pen, picked up another paper and flipped the pages.

"Here," he muttered around the pen in his mouth.

Arthur looked up.

"What is it?"

"I don't know yet," Merlin murmured, taking the pen from his mouth. "But I'm starting to see it."

"See what?"

"The pattern," Merlin said absently. He turned to the notepad, started with the equation he'd given Arthur all those those weeks ago.

Arthur came around the table, watched Merlin work. He had one hand on the back of Merlin's chair, the other braced on the table. Merlin was scribbling, the pen scratching in the silence between them.

Merlin's pen slowed. He underlined a few numbers. Sat back with a frown.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, looking at the paper. The equations were long and complicated, but Arthur was starting to see something in them too.

"I should do this again," Merlin said quietly, reaching for the paper. Arthur picked it up slowly, before he could. He flipped back a page, read Merlin's notes. Then flipped to the equations. Looked them over again.

"This..." Arthur started. Merlin felt terrible.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I can do it again."

"Do you think it will be different, if you do it again?" he said, very quietly.

Merlin looked at the reports, back up to Arthur.

"No," he said. "Someone is diverting a portion of your sales with every opportunity logged. There's a percentage of every transaction that's missing. I can't account for it. Your bottom line this quarter should have been..." Merlin shook his head. Ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. At least..."

Arthur watched him. His gaze was incendiary as Merlin leaned his head back. Mouthed the numbers as he ran them over in his head again.

"You're in the hole for at least 20 million, Arthur."

The paper in Arthur's hands crumpled between his fingers.

"Do you know who?" He asked.

Merlin shook his head.

"Maybe if I had access to...I don't know, everything? Your servers. Your employee records. But not from this. From this? I can tell you have a serious problem."

Arthur tossed the papers down on the table and paced, running his hand over his mouth. He looked fierce.

Merlin unfolded himself from the kitchen chair and came up behind Arthur. Wrapped him in his arms. Put his chin on his shoulder. Arthur stopped pacing, slid his palms down Merlin's arms.

"There's nothing to be done about it on a..." he turned to look at the clock. Rocked Arthur in his arms. "A very early Friday morning."

Arthur let out a breath, lowered his chin to his chest.

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Come to bed," Merlin whispered.

Arthur squeezed Merlin's arms. Lifted one of his hands to kiss the back of Merlin's and then paused.

"What did you do?" He murmured. Frowning, Merlin pulled his hand back and looked at his knuckles. They were bruised, some of them split.

"Oh..." he murmured. "I uh...I punched Leon's dash a couple of times."

Arthur frowned. Looked at Merlin over his shoulder.

"What for?"

Merlin shrugged. "Frustrated, with the night. Did..." he hesitated. Took in Arthur's face. He realized Leon must not have mentioned to him what happened outside of the club yet.

"Did you wait all night to frown at a bunch of financial reports on your kitchen table?" He hedged with a smile. "Because I know that's my idea of a good time but I don't want to monopolize the evening."

Arthur snorted, turned back around.

"You're a terrible liar, Merlin," he said quietly.

"I know," Merlin agreed.

In the bedroom, Merlin was feeling bolder than he usually did. When it came to Arthur, he preferred to take a back seat, let the night happen as it may, however Arthur wanted it to. But tonight Arthur was distracted. So Merlin took the lead.

He undressed Arthur in the dark. The moon was low in the sky so early, but it was still giving off a lot of light and Merlin took his time removing every stray bit of clothing Arthur was wearing. He kissed Arthur reverently, on his throat. His collarbone. His chest. Arthur cradled his face and his shoulders. Took him out of his t-shirt and jeans. He sat Arthur down on the end of the bed, settled on his knees between his legs. He turned his face up, and Arthur took him under the jaw, gently, pulled him up off his haunches so that he could kiss Merlin. They kissed passionately, and Merlin let Arthur have all of him in the space between their lips. Drawing in his warmth, his breath, his long hands splayed on Arthur's stomach, pacing the rise and fall of his breathing.

Arthur moaned into his mouth and goosebumps rose over Merlin's skin. He opened his mouth, drew the kiss deeper, before allowing Arthur to put his hands on his collarbones, and press him back down to the floor.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to. Merlin lowered his eyes, pressed open Arthur's thighs.

Arthur leaned his head back when Merlin took him into his mouth, one hand cradling the back of Merlin's head.

Merlin closed his eyes, lost himself in the feel of Arthur's fingers in his hair. The tension in Arthur's thighs.

Arthur moaned, his back arching under Merlin's mouth, and he felt himself unraveling, his breath coming harder and he had enough presence of mind to clench his fist in Merlin's hair, pull his head back before he reached the point of no return.

Merlin moaned when Arthur pulled his head back, lowered his hands and let Arthur run his thumbs along his bottom lip. Arthur leaned forward, kissed Merlin's forehead and said against his skin.

"On your feet."

Merlin did as he was told, shuddered when Arthur stepped around him. Bent him over the foot of the bed.

He moaned when he felt Arthur lower himself to the floor behind Merlin. Turned his face into the bedspread when Arthur spread him open. Pressed his tongue inside.

Merlin twisted the bed covers in his fists. Let himself give over to the sounds he wanted to make, holding nothing back. He pressed his hips back. Felt his knees going weak. Arthur slapped him hard on the outside of his thigh and he cried out, relishing the pain. Taking another three with Arthur's name on the end of every cry.

Arthur moved back and he let out a whimper, smiled when he heard Arthur chuckle in response. Arthur slid a finger inside. Worked him open slowly, with care. Merlin crowed when Arthur crooked his fingers. Pressed into the place that lit Merlin up from the base of his spine to his nose.

"There," he moaned. "There."

Arthur took him right to the edge. Merlin was so close, he could feel his thighs shaking. The bedspread was wet where his mouth was pressed.

When Arthur stood up behind him, Merlin felt the heat of anticipation crawling up his spine.

Arthur groaned as he entered Merlin. Merlin matched him, reaching back to put his hand on Arthur's waist, got up on his free elbow. They rocked together, Arthur leaned over him, hands braced on either side of Merlin's ribs, and Merlin groaned, his head coming down between his shoulders.

"Harder," he begged. "Arthur, please."

Arthur hooked Merlin's thigh with with his arm and forced his knee up onto the bed, pounded into him and Merlin arched back. Cried out to the ceiling. Arthur panted into the space between Merlin's shoulder blades. Set a punishing pace.

Merlin's nails raked Arthur's side as he came. Arthur hissed at the bite, leaned over Merlin and bit down on his shoulder as he followed Merlin over the edge. Road the sound of Merlin screaming his name until he was spent.

They lay, breathing hard in the silence that followed.

Arthur stood slowly, still panting. Kissed the base of Merlin's spine as he slid free. Merlin moaned quietly as they separated. Let his leg down off the bed to follow Arthur up.

They moved together, Merlin turning on weak legs, laughing breathlessly into Arthur's sweat damp chest when Arthur began backing them up to the bathroom.

They showered entangled in each other. Fell into bed the same way. Merlin draped his long legs over and inside of Arthur's. Pressed his face to Arthur's neck and pulled him close.

Arthur held him. Smoothed back Merlin's wet hair and kissed his face.

"Kiss me," Arthur said quietly. Merlin lifted his face. Kissed Arthur again. It was easy and soft. Languorous.

They fell asleep like that. Merlin's face resting against Arthur's neck. Arthur's cheek pressed to Merlin's, breathing softly into his hair.


	12. Unsteady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for such wonderful comments ❤ If you ever see anything in my work that appears to be in error, please don't hesitate to bring it to my attention (Thank you Nona5me for pointing out a missing conjunction in one of my equations from Chapter 8!) - my goal is to grow my craft. I promise not to bleed on the keyboard if you have a critique. I would gratefully welcome them! 
> 
> All that blubbering aside, I am so happy you're all enjoying yourselves. I'll be posting again shortly, so keep an eye out 💋

* * *

Merlin sat at the round table, cleared now, his knees up and feet on the chair with him, sipping his tea and eating the toast and eggs Arthur set down in front of him.

When Arthur sat down himself, he ate a few bites of his own breakfast before he said, very naturally.

"I want you to come into the office with me today."

Merlin almost spit everything he had in his mouth out across the table. He had to put a hand up to his face to stop it. Choked a moment before he managed a wheeze.

"Are you crazy? We've been avoiding any confirmation that I'm the escort you're sleeping with and you just want me to walk into your office building? Someone, _someone_ on your staff knows who I am Arthur, I guarantee it. It's not a good idea."

Arthur frowned at him, leaning back in his chair. Even with his glasses on, Merlin could see the CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world in his eyes just then.

"I'm aware. I don't think it matters. You said you could find out who was cutting costs from the company if you had access to everything. I'm giving you access."

Merlin stared at him.

"Arthur...you could hire anyone to do that job. There are plenty of qualified people out there."

"I need your help, Merlin. I can't hire someone off the street, news like this always gets leaked to the press. I trust you, and that exceptional mind of yours. I don't want anyone else."

Merlin had to swallow hard.

"Then...maybe not today. Could we do it tomorrow? When there are less people?"

Arthur looked away.

"I could open the building, yes."

Merlin watched him closely. Pressed his lips into a tight line before getting the courage to say,

"Why does it have to be today?"

Arthur's frown deepened.

"You try putting off finding out who's stealing millions from your company," he said. "See how easy it is for you."

Merlin's gaze darkened. He knew, somewhere inside of him, he knew Arthur wasn't trying to be a dick. But it still hurt.

Merlin stood slowly from his chair. Arthur watched him as Merlin kneeled at his knee, hands in his lap. The look he was giving him was dark and foreboding.

"Because what would I know of anything like that? _Sir_?" He said quietly.

Arthur lowered his arms. Shot Merlin a glare.

"That isn't what I meant, and you know it. Get up."

"Is that an order, Sir?"

"Don't, Merlin. You know it wasn't."

Merlin stared at him. Still angry, his skin hot under Arthur's sweater.

"Then I'll stay here because I want to."

"I'm sorry, Merlin," he said quietly. "I don't want to argue with you. The servers aren't only at the main office. They're backed up in Wales. We could go there instead. No one but the building manager and his security staff will be there."

Merlin was still angry, but he felt his shoulders relax in surprise.

"You want to go to Wales, today?"

"Please, Merlin? This is my father's company. It's all he left behind. I can't watch someone run it into the ground."

Merlin sighed. Rested his head against Arthur's knee. Tentatively, unsure if he was still in trouble, Arthur reached out. Carded his hands through Merlin's hair.

Merlin made a soft noise. Closed his eyes.

"I'll need to stop at my house. I need to change."

Arthur's hand stopped in his hair. Merlin shook his head so he would start again, making Arthur laugh. Continued running his hands through the black curls. Merlin smiled against Arthur's bare leg. Reached up and traced the hem of Arthur's boxers with his fingers.

"You're wrong, you know," Merlin said after the silence between them had stretched out. "Your father, he left you behind too. You're worth more than building bricks and numerical codes, Arthur."

Arthur drew in an unsteady breath. Merlin tipped his head up to look at him, his cheek resting on Arthur's knee. Arthur looked down at him. Ran his knuckles down Merlin's cheek.

"Thank you, Merlin."

* * *

Merlin hadn't felt as nervous as he did, pulling up to the airport in Leon's charger, since he had the day he'd walked onto Warwick campus for the first time.

He didn't own any suits, and he certainly didn't have any business attire. But Arthur had said this building wasn't staffed the same way his office building was, so he'd put on his best pair of black jeans and a grey collared shirt under a form fitting black sweater. The only tie he owned was red, and that seemed like a statement - but Gwen was able to find him a grey tie to match the button-up. It was her father's, and he'd left a few of his things behind last time he came to visit, that she'd never gotten around to sending off. His coat, he hadn't worn it in years. It was the only expensive piece of clothing he owned, and it had been a Christmas gift from his mother when he'd been accepted to the Ph.D program at Warwick. A tailored, grey wool peacoat, that fell to mid-thigh on him. He was bouncing his leg, the only shoes he'd found to match being a pair of entirely black chuck tailors. Already he felt out of his depth.

Leon put a hand on his knee to stop the bouncing.

"Relax," he said simply. Merlin ran a hand through his hair for the millionth time since he'd gotten into the car. He had flipped Leon off when he whistled, opening the door for Merlin to get in.

"You clean up nice," he'd said with a grin.

They drove onto the airport loading area, and Leon flashed a badge at the security gate and they followed the painted lines down the runway to a small hanger off of the commercial and international flight bays.

Merlin was bouncing his leg again.

"Can you really tell who is taking the money from Arthur's company?" Leon asked as they crept along past the larger aircraft.

Merlin blew out a breath.

"Should. Numbers don't lie. But I have to see the progression of them. Where the problem started and where it ends. I can't see any of that from a few quarterly financial reports."

"How long will it take?" Leon prompted. Merlin shrugged as they parked in front of a smaller hanger where a private jet was completing safety checks.

"Depends on how complicated the scheme is. Weeks? Maybe months? There will be a lot to look at - I won't have an answer today."

Leon nodded, came around the car to open the door for him. That had been the hardest thing to get used to, letting Leon do that part of the job for him. Sometimes he still forgot. He hadn't realized until Leon sat him down and explained that there was an actual security protocol to the action. It wasn't just a polite gesture. He needed Merlin to stay in the car until he had walked all the way around it to open the door, confirming there was nothing in the vicinity of the car to be concerned about.

He stepped out of the car and the air was dry and frigid. He felt the cold sticking in his lungs as he got to his feet. Leon handed him his leather messenger bag - another relic from his time at University - and they started for the plane. Arthur was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with Gwaine. His eyebrows came up, a smile starting to take his lips when he saw Merlin.

Merlin, a little self conscious, rubbed at the back of his ear as he came up to Arthur, smiled back.

"Ready?" Gwaine asked, grinning at Merlin. They bumped fists. All of them starting up the stairs, Gwaine in the lead, Leon taking up the rear.

When they were settled inside the cabin, Gwaine and Leon taking pilot and copilot seats respectively, Arthur was still staring at Merlin.

"What?" Merlin murmured, shifting in his seat. Arthur was sitting across from him, so it was impossible to avoid those sharp eyes.

"I like this look," Arthur said, low, making Merlin close his eyes. He couldn't stop the blush that rose at the sound of his voice.

Arthur watched him, he could feel his eyes tracking the flush of color to the tips of his ears.

"I should have invited you to the office sooner," Arthur added. "So I could gag you with your own tie to muffle the sounds you'd make when I take you across my desk."

Merlin couldn't quite stifle the moan he gave in response. His skin felt hot all in a rush. Arthur was leaning across their shared space now, commanding Merlin to look at him with his eyes alone. Merlin raised his, looking up from under his lashes, inexplicably shy and a little embarrassed. Arthur smirked.

"You like that idea, don't you?" He prompted softly.

Merlin bit his lip.

"I...I just wanted to..." he swallowed hard. Tried again.

"I thought I should...I didn't think a t-shirt was appropriate."

"Oh Merlin," Arthur replied. "What you're wearing now isn't appropriate. How am I supposed to concentrate on anything but you today?"

"If you keep talking like that," Merlin said, his voice a little shakey. "I won't be able to concentrate on anything but you today."

Arthur smiled, and it was warm. Less predatory. Merlin was able to let out a breath, the tension dissipating. He smiled back.

"You do look very nice today," Arthur said. "Thank you for doing this."

"Thank you," he said, still feeling awkward. "I'm glad to, really."

"You're very tense."

Merlin pressed his lips together. Leaned back in the seat involuntarily as they plane lifted off the ground.

"I'm not trying to be a pain, Arthur. But this is a huge risk and I don't want to be the reason your name gets dragged down to the level of mine. I've said it before and I'll say it again until it sinks in."

Arthur sighed.

"This again."

"Yes, _this_ again. This until you listen to me," Merlin said, heated. "Your reputation means something, Arthur. I'm not going to let you trade it for a song."

"Would if I were on the level of your mind, Merlin," he said. "My reputation seems like very little compared to what you're capable of."

"No one sees what I can do," he snapped. "No one who looks twice at me is going to give pennies for the equations I can do in my head or the years I spent at University or my goddamned unfinished dissertation, Arthur. They look and they see a prostitute and that's all the world will see if I'm standing next to you when it happens. I'm a bomb, waiting to go off in your life. I'm not trying to be difficult, I'm trying to save you!"

There was silence in the cabin after he said it. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the space between them. Arthur didn't appear to know what to say at first. He stared at Merlin, really looked as if he were only just seeing him for the first time.

"Let's just agree," he said after a moment. "To table the discussion for now, then."

And something about that, Arthur treating him like the office staff made him angrier. He glared.

"What discussion, Arthur? You can't erase Excalibur or Avalon or any of it from my past. It isn't going away. Whether you like it or not it matters and I'm sorry, but that's the reality of it."

"I don't want to talk about this right now, Merlin," Arthur warned.

"Oh I'm sorry, should we put it on the calendar and schedule a formal meeting?"

"Why are you talking like that?" Arthur said quietly. "Have I ever been a business man when we're together?"

Merlin closed his mouth. He still felt riled, but it was starting to feel petty and foolish.

"No," he whispered. Arthur watched him a moment longer, his frown deep and irritated. Merlin thought Arthur had every right to retaliate, to snap at him, to say something nasty the way Merlin had done. Instead, all he said was,

"Then, please don't start treating me like one now."

Merlin nodded, genuinely cowed by the hurt in Arthur's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. It was quiet, trying not to disturb the fragile peace between them. "You know I just want to help you, right?"

"I know," Arthur said. "I know."

Merlin leaned his head back, stared out the window. For a long time the two of them were looking in opposite directions until Merlin, sensing Arthur's worry, slouched a little in his seat and propped his feet up on Arthur's chair by his thigh. He crossed his legs at the ankle. Let his foot and his calf rest against Arthur's leg. After a moment, Arthur reached down, slid his hand around Merlin's heel, holding him closer, sliding his warm hand into the hem of Merlin's jeans, fingers resting against the bare skin of Merlin's ankle.

"I'm going to get you a bouquet of wool socks for Christmas," Arthur told him with a smile. "Always so cold."

His fingers brushed Merlin's skin. Merlin tipped his head so that it lolled to the side. Smiled with his eyes.

For just a moment he imagined what it would be like to have this all the time, and not just in the spaces between their regular lives. He imagined being able to touch Arthur in public, breakfast at the round table in Cavendish, Arthur's t-shirts and jumpers and his glasses.

He thought to himself, that when the day came that neither of them could whether the storm any longer, he would remember them, this way. Quiet and intimate and bouquets of wool socks.

This is what it must be like, Merlin thought. To be the other side of the same coin.

* * *

They had been working for nearly eight hours now, and they'd gotten a fairly late start to the day. So when Arthur came into the conference room Merlin had been working in for the day closing in on midnight, he was awed that Merlin didn't seem to be slowing down.

The room was enormous, with a wide conference table and three out of four walls were painted floor to ceiling with whiteboard paint. The fourth wall was made of glass. Leon had been standing outside of the door for most of the day, alternating between watching Merlin through the glass as he worked and walking a short shift along the halls.

Arthur stayed in his office for the majority of the day, only coming down to see if Merlin was hungry at around 6.

Arthur had introduced Merlin as a freelance financial consultant who was going to look over some of the accounts over the next few weeks. Henry, the building supervisor, logged Merlin into his security system, and printed him a badge that would get him into the building if he ever needed to stop by without Arthur there to show him in, as unlikely as that was.

Merlin clipped it to the belt loop of his jeans. He was a little nervous at having his photograph in the Pendragon business security archive. But he hadn't given his legal name. When Arthur introduced him, Merlin had cut in impulsively,

"Emrys Hunith," he said, shaking Henry's hand with a winning smile. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Gwaine and Leon looked on, approvingly.

As they rode the elevator up, Leon and Gwaine standing in front of them, Arthur glanced at Merlin.

"Emrys Hunith?"

Merlin glanced at him, a little self-consciously.

"It's my mother's name."

Arthur nodded, grinning at the back of Gwaine's head.

"You've been spending too much time with my security team."

Merlin laughed. Gwaine glanced over his shoulder as they reached the 15th floor. Lifted his fist for Merlin to pound.

Arthur chuckled as they stepped out into the hall.

He set Merlin up in the conference room with six file boxes filled with paperwork, and a closed-circuit laptop with access to the building servers. There were more boxes being delivered from the main office and they would be brought up to the conference room when they arrived throughout the week.

As Merlin removed his coat, Arthur looked at his watch and impulsively kissed Merlin on the mouth before turning to follow Gwaine out of the conference room.

"I'll be in my office if you need anything," he said as they left. Merlin stared after him, absently touching his own mouth when he saw Leon in the glass, wagging his eyebrows at him.

Merlin rolled his eyes, and got to work.

Now Arthur stood watching him, sweater and collared shirt rolled to the elbows, black marker in hand as he did the math on a particularly long equation across the far wall. He was holding a set of reports in his free hand, and there were headphones running to his back pocket, in his ears. Arthur could hear, faintly, piano music. Something rapid, like a heartbeat, and watched as Merlin's quick hands paced the music with his numbers and values.

He stood watching, and Leon stood at his shoulder. Gwaine was doing the rounds.

"I heard your row on the plane today," Leon said. Arthur glanced at him by way of acknowledgement. Went back to watching Merlin work.

"You should listen to him," Leon added. "This, whatever this is? It's working. It's good. Don't throw it away because you were a little impulsive."

Arthur rubbed his eyes.

"I'm surprised," he admitted quietly. "I thought for sure you'd be looking for more strict concessions the way Elyan is. Or asking me to drop this altogether because you don't trust him."

Leon shouldn't have been surprised that Arthur was aware of his initial reservations. He'd been very vocal about them to Gwaine, in the beginning.

"I spend too much time with him not to see it," he said. "That every choice he makes concerning this arrangement you have? Is for you. To keep you safe from the things he's gone through."

Arthur raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I was wrong about him," Leon added quietly. "I just thought you should know...what I see? Is someone committed to you. You should listen to him when he brings up his concerns about the press, about the reports circulating. It's his life they're shoving their cameras up into, not yours."

Arthur's expression softened as he watched Merlin step back from the board to review what he'd written.

"I forget sometimes," Arthur admitted quietly. "That he isn't really part of this family. He isn't protected by the Pendragon Estate the way you are. The way Gwaine and Elyan are."

"Did you know he was a Ph.D student?" Leon asked. Arthur frowned, shook his head.

"He said he was at University. I didn't know it was for a doctorate."

"He's got a meeting with one of his professors to see if he can get back in. Finish his dissertation or whatever it is doctors do to get their fancy letters."

Arthur snorted. Glanced at the youngest member of his security staff. Shared a warm, real smile with him.

"Thank you, Leon."

"Anytime, boss."

Arthur shook his head and stepped into the conference room.

He rapt his knuckles on the table a few times, so as not to startle Merlin when he approached, but Merlin still jumped. He turned to look at Arthur over his shoulder, glanced up at the clock and remembered he'd put a piece of paper over it when he'd gotten started.

"Sorry," he smiled, taking out his headphones and looping them around his neck. "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight," Arthur smiled.

"Oh, Jesus, Arthur I'm sorry, you should have stopped me - "

"It's okay," Arthur laughed. "I got a lot done myself. I just wanted to talk to you about what you want to do tonight."

Merlin tipped his head to the side. Frowned.

"Do tonight?"

"The house I grew up in is here, a little bit west of Camlan. We could stay there for the weekend and come back Sunday evening. Or we can go home tonight."

Merlin blinked.

"I didn't bring anything with me," he said slowly. "Just this."

He gestured with his hand at the clothes he was wearing.

"I'll take care of it," Arthur said. "Consider it part of your business expenses, if you're comfortable with that. Or we can go home tonight instead."

"Business expenses?" Merlin asked, now officially clueless. "What do you mean?"

"You're doing a job for me Merlin. I entered it into payroll this morning."

"You didn't have to do that," Merlin said, a little stunned. "I didn't agree to help you for money."

"I know that," Arthur said, gently. "Let me, anyway."

Merlin nodded slowly. Crossed his arms, tapping the marker on his bicep.

"Why?" He asked after a beat.

"Because this might take a while, and coming to Wales isn't exactly like hopping on the tube to come up into the city. I need your help. So let me compensate you for any potential hits your current work schedule might take."

Merlin set the marker down carefully. Looked around the room. He didn't want to leave just yet. He hadn't done any work like this in so long and it was easy and it moved through him and he felt like his skin fit him again when he was passing numbers and values through problems in his head.

And part of him, the part of him that still thought of Arthur and him, feet propped on each other's laps, cable knit sweaters and mugs of tea in front of the television, wanted the time. He wanted the time because they had it, and it would be foolish to waste it. He would have to call off on both his jobs. He was thinking he should probably just quit the kiosk, and the weekend wouldn't be a hard sell for Excalibur. With all the press hounding their doors lately, they would be glad to be rid of him for a while.

"Okay," he said, stepping up to Arthur. They stood very close, but not quite touching. A smile was beginning to creep up on Arthur's lips.

"Okay?"

Merlin laughed.

"Don't be such a clotpole," he said, turning to get his coat. "Yes, I'll stay the weekend with you. I just have to make a few calls."

Arthur was still smiling when they got into the Explorer. Merlin was startled when Henry waved him off from the desk.

"He prefers to work a modified shift," Arthur told him. "It's better for his girls and their schedule with school. He comes and goes throughout the day."

Merlin smiled a little at that, giving Arthur an appraising look.

"That's very kind of you," he said.

Arthur shrugged. "Building a strong business community is about building strong relationships. I do what I can."

Merlin was tapping his fingers against the door within ten minutes of the drive. Arthur reached over. Laced their fingers together.

"What's wrong?"

Merlin blew out a breath. "Nothing, really. It's just when I get started on something like that, it takes a while for me to stop the process in my head."

Arthur nodded. Squeezed his hand.

"Are you hungry at all?"

Merlin shook his head. "I wouldn't mind a cup of tea though."

"Alright," Arthur laughed. "Gwaine, if you and Leon are hungry, best pick something up on the way. We'll go grocery shopping in the morning."

They did. By the time they were pulling into the manor at Camlan, Merlin was drawing equations on the window with his finger, one knee drawn up to his chest. His other hand was still laced with Arthur's, and he absently tapped a rhythm on the back of his hand as he wrote.

Arthur watched him in silence, his gaze hungry and affectionate.

The manor wasn't as expansive as the estate in London, but there was something about it Merlin loved more. It was Jacobean, with more windows than Merlin could count, original rounded oak doors and iron hinges, red and sandstone brick and a five gabled slate roof line. The front of the house was open to the yard, there were no trees except a pair of small lilac bushes beside the front door. Everything was snow covered and stone and in the distance he could hear a brook nearby. In the dark, it looked like something out of a fairytale.

"You grew up here?" Merlin asked as they entered the house.

"I did. It was my mother's house. After she died, my father didn't come back here much. I've kept it up for visits. I like to come here, when I can."

Inside it was like the cottage. Stone and hardwood and fireplaces and wood stoves. Merlin loved all of it at once.

Arthur called the groundskeeper, apologizing for the late hour, and asking if he could bring up some wood for the house. It was such an old house, there wasn't really any central heating.

Merlin helped the three of them stack the wood as the groundskeeper brought his truck around. Asked how long Arthur was in town for. While they chatted, Merlin went through the house, checking lights and letting Leon know when there was one that needed changing. They had it warmed and lit inside of an hour, and Merlin was delighted that there was a fireplace in every bedroom.

"Would you like me to light it?" Arthur asked with a smile, when he saw Merlin staring. They were in Arthur's room, and although it was clean it was lived in. This space seemed to accommodate the Arthur with glasses more than the business tycoon.

"Yes," Merlin said around a sip of tea. He had his legs crossed under him, cupping the steaming mug in his hands. "Do you need any help?"

"No, thank you."

He smiled as he said it, and Merlin rolled his eyes, giving Arthur an answering smile he didn't see but knew would be there all the same.

When he was finished with the fire, and the room was filled with orange light, he leaned over Merlin, bracing his hands on the bed by his thin hips, and kissed him briefly. He tasted like black tea and apples.

"I want to play a game," he murmured against Merlin's lips. He smiled at the shudder he got in response. "Color, Emrys?"

Merlin gave him a short moan in response. Managed a quiet, "Green."

Arthur wasn't sure when it happened. The moment they had become intimate outside of their scheduled play date. When it had become easy to do this with Merlin, any time, any where.

"Put down your tea," he said. "Lay back, arms up."

Merlin did as he was told, slowly stretching himself out across the bed so Arthur could watch.

Arthur settled, kneeling between Merlin's legs. He didn't touch him, just sat looking down at him, and Merlin waited, fingers brushing the rungs on the headboard above him.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, Emrys," he said. "For every answer you give that I'm satisfied with, you can choose either stop, slow, or faster."

Merlin already felt his skin prickling in anticipation.

"I'm going to ask you ten questions. If you can be good for me, if you don't come until I tell you to, I will answer any ten questions you have for me."

Merlin groaned, started speaking before Arthur could continue.

"Yes, g _reen_ , whatever you like, please."

Arthur grinned.

"So needy," he said as he ran his hands up Merlin's shirts. Warmed his abdomen with his palms. Flicked his nipples and dragged his nails feather light along Merlin's tight ribcage.

Merlin whimpered, his back arching into Arthur's hands.

"That doesn't bode well for you in the game," Arthur mused, sliding his hands lower. Unbuttoning Merlin's tight jeans.

Merlin gasped when he yanked them down to his knees. Peeled them the rest of the way off. Then, Arthur fitted his hands beneath Merlin's knees and bent him open, before he began sucking bruises along the inside of Merlin's thighs.

Merlin was panting, half-hard already when Arthur nuzzled his stiffness through his boxers. Stroked with two fingers along the under side of him. Merlin flexed his hips and tossed his head, but Arthur's knees were pinning his thighs now, and there was no leverage.

When Arthur finally pulled his boxers down so that he could take Merlin in his mouth, Merlin jerked so hard that he nearly unseated Arthur from his thighs.

"Oh, you _are_ very needy tonight, aren't you," Arthur hummed against his overheated flesh.

Taking Merlin in his fist then, he began a maddeningly slow stroke, and asked his first question.

"On a scale of one-to-ten, how do you feel about me taking you over my desk at the office?"

Merlin let out a whine, arched his back as much as he was able.

"We can't do that, Arthur, you know - "

Arthur tsk'd. Sped up his strokes, making Merlin shudder, stumbling over his words.

"Just answer the question. That was your only instruction."

"But..."

Merlin gasped when Arthur picked up the pace again.

"If you ignore me again, Emrys, I'm going to tie your hands to the headboard and leave you all night with a vibrator inside you while I sleep."

Merlin bucked. Squeezed his eyes shut. He was fast approaching the edge of a cliff and they hadn't even made it past question one yet. He panted, turned his head into his arm.

"Do you understand me?" Arthur prompted sharply.

"Yes! Yes, I'm sorry. I understand."

"Then answer the question, Emrys."

"Ten!" He cried, his thighs shaking in an effort not to move.

"Why a ten?" Arthur said, picking up the pace again. Merlin's hips stuttered to match his fist. He shook his head, afraid to take his concentration off keeping himself from riding the sensation all the way to the end and the consequences be damned. He barely got the words out.

"I...I've thought about that, ever since you told me..." he gasped, bucking into Arthur's fist. His eyes flying open when Arthur lifted his knee, straining the muscle in his hip just right. Opening him further.

"Since you told me your last name!" He moaned. Arthur smiled against the tip of him. Sucked on him making Merlin arch and cry out to the ceiling.

"Fuck!"

"Pick," Arthur murmured.

"Stop!" Merlin gasped, shaking all over. "Stop, please. I can't."

Arthur immediately let go of him. Sitting back on his heels and letting Merlin pant and fight out his orgasm before he couldn't stop it in time. His neck was already flush with color - Arthur would have to be careful to pace this game. He hadn't realized how close Merlin was already.

"Next question," Arthur said, still sitting back on his heels. Merlin watched him, dazed.

"Do you think of me bending you over my desk, when you touch yourself?"

Merlin buried his face in his arm. Gave a tiny whimper in response.

"Look at me, Emrys."

Merlin looked, but it took some time. His skin was hot, his muscles jumping when Arthur put his hands on Merlin's thighs, just holding him there. Feeling the tremors under his skin.

"Sometimes," he whispered. "Sometimes in my bed. Sometimes you see how many times you can get me off, during the drive from Excalibur to Cavendish."

Arthur groaned. Licked a stripe from the base of Merlin's shaft to the sensitive underside of his crown. Merlin choked on a moan.

"Pick," Arthur said. His voice a little rough.

"Slowly," Merlin whimpered. "Please, Arthur I'm so close, I can't..."

Arthur took pity on him. Stroked him slowly, irregularly. Merlin groaned, twisted his hips.

"Tell me," Arthur said. "What do I do in your favorite fantasy? How do I get you off?"

Merlin made another pitiful noise in the back of his throat.

"Arthur please, I..."

"Oh love," Arthur said quietly. Dangerously. "Finish that sentence and I'll happily sleep while you writhe on the bed next to me."

Merlin cried out, arching his back when Arthur suddenly took a firm hold of him. Began stroking him at a steady pace.

"Oh...fuck! Arthur!"

Arthur smiled to himself. Picked up the pace again.

"Arthur, please! It's embarrassing!"

Arthur gave a short laugh. Stopped his hand slowly, making Merlin jerk his knee with a whine.

"Up on your feet. Over the side of the bed."

Merlin got to his feet gingerly. Let Arthur force him face down into the bed with hand between his shoulder blades.

He groaned when Arthur slid a finger inside him. Cried out and pressed his hips back against Arthur's hand.

"Oh God, Arthur please, you weren't serious," he moaned. "Please, please..."

"I'm always serious Emrys. I gave you ample warnings and too many second chances."

When he slid the vibrator in Merlin was tense, waiting for the shock of the thing turning on. Instead, Arthur pulled him back up to his feet by his hair, making him cry out.

"Boxers and pants back on."

Merlin was a wreck when he got back on the bed. He was absolutely straining against his jeans, hips canting abortively as he lay back. Efficiently and loosely, Arthur tied Merlin's wrists to the bed frame.

Merlin panted, eyes blown, as Arthur covered him with the blankets, and then turned over, his back to Merlin to settle down beside him. Merlin gave a soft whine. When the clock on the bedside table had passed two minutes, Arthur turned on the remote to the vibrator.

Merlin barely managed to muffle the scream. Arthur had gone from the first setting all the way to three. Merlin bucked, arched his back. Tossed his head.

Arthur turned over. Pretended to be on the verge of sleep, draping his arm over Merlin's shaking hips and pulling him back against Arthur's chest. Arthur was hard through his sweatpants and he ground himself against Merlin's hips. Turned the vibrator up. Merlin came with a muted cry of Arthur's name, straining his neck back to Arthur's shoulder, his arms twisting in the rope tie.

"Please," he moaned. "Please don't..."

But it wasn't a safeword. So, with his eyes closed, Arthur turned up the vibrator again. Slid his hand up under Merlin's shirt to trace feather light patterns on his stomach.

Merlin choked on his breath the second time he came.

"No more, please" he whimpered, shaking in Arthur's arms. "Please Arthur. I'll tell you. Anything you want, please."

"If you can't be quiet I'll make you stay in the guest bedroom," he answered, response muffled by Merlin's sweater. "I'm trying to sleep."

Merlin's moaning turned to sobs as he lay, trembling, trying to be good and jerking against the ropes, against Arthur's wandering fingers. Arthur slid his hands up the sweater further. Strummed Merlin's hardened nipples with his thumbs. Merlin pressed his hips back, drawing his knees up with a keening wail, coming for a third time, turning his head into his arm to stifle the noise. But the position only rocked the vibrator deeper inside of him, his jeans doing the work of keeping the pressure on that too-good spot. Merlin bucked with a shout when he realized what he'd done, but Arthur reached around him. Held his knees up to his chest. Merlin flexed his hips. Tried to get away.

"No," Merlin whimpered softly. He jerked against the ropes. "Please, not again."

Arthur could hear the tears in his voice, and there was real distress to the words. But it was the dreamy quality to the way he said it that made Arthur sit up and take notice. He leaned up on his elbows. Let Merlin's knees go and listened to the sob he gave in relief when he could relax his legs, his hips.

"Color, Emrys," Arthur demanded.

Merlin gasped out a sobbing, "Yellow, please, y-yellow."

Arthur turned off the vibrator immediately. Kept his palm pressed to Merlin's bare stomach as he reached up to let the knot loose around Merlin's wrists. When his arms came down Merlin shook, pulling himself into a tight ball, keening into the pillow under his head.

Arthur pressed him close. Ran a warm palm along the outside of Merlin's shaking thigh over his jeans.

"Hit me," Merlin whispered.

Arthur slapped him hard on the outside of his thigh. Merlin hissed, but his shoulders were starting to come down. The tightness in his lower back releasing.

"Again," he rasped. Arthur did.

When Merlin was still and breathing steady, Arthur sat up with him, gently pulling the sweater off and unbuttoning the collared shirt from behind. The tie and his socks had gone earlier and he whimpered while he sat, still overly sensitive on the plug inside him. Getting his jeans and boxers off was the real test. Merlin bucked, hissing when his aching cock slid free of both garments.

"Talk to me," Arthur said as he lay Merlin down, sliding a pillow under his lower back. Merlin was still wildly over-sensitive and he lay as still as he could, an arm thrown over his eyes, his skin sweat damp in the firelight.

"I couldn't feel anything," Merlin hissed. "It was just that pressure after the third time and the vibrations..."

"What couldn't you feel?" Arthur murmured, massaging Merlin's thighs, his knees and his calves.

"You," Merlin sobbed. "The bed, nothing. It felt like I was disappearing. And that damn noise."

He arched as he said it, and Arthur understood.

"Okay, love," he said gently, draping one of Merlin's long legs over his shoulder. "I'll take it out, just try to relax."

When Merlin was finally still and settled, Arthur turned him onto his stomach. Merlin looked dazed and still troubled, flinching a little every time that Arthur touched him. So Arthur sat beside him, ran a hand through his hair and down the back of his pale neck, so he could take Merlin's shoulders in his hands.

He circled his thumbs against the tense muscles there, massaging slowly and deeply, finding the knots at the wings of Merlin's shoulder blades, and easing the tight line from his neck to the curve of his smooth shoulders. Merlin made a soft noise in the back of his throat as Arthur worked, his skin warming under Arthur's hands. He moved methodically down the line of Merlin's spine, easing the pressure at the small of his back and then returning to Merlin's shoulders so he could gently do the same to first one arm, then the other. When he finished Merlin's neck, he spent long moments carding his fingers through Merlin's hair, gently pressing his thumbs to the space below Merlin's ears and his jaw. Circling the pads of his fingers along the back of Merlin's head, back down to the nape of his neck.

"Thank you, for telling me," Arthur said quietly when it looked like Merlin's eyes had gained a little more focus. "You were so good for me."

Merlin smiled a drowsy sort of smile, and slid his gaze up to Arthur's.

"You always say that," he said happily. "Even when I'm being a little shit."

Arthur laughed.

"You sound better."

"I am. Thank you."

Arthur spent a few more minutes, just running his fingers along Merlin's pale skin. Memorizing the swell of muscle, the resistance of bone. Merlin surprised him by saying, very frankly.

"Lay down with your back to me."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Merlin smiled at him again from over his shoulder. His gaze was different this time. There was something hungry to it that made Arthur's skin prickle.

"Please," Merlin added. Making it sound like, 'You dick' with that cheeky smile on his face. Arthur snorted, sliding down on the bed like he'd been told.

He felt Merlin turn over, bracketing Arthur's body with his own. Without much preamble, Merlin slid one hand up Arthur's shirt. The other, he reached into the waistband of Arthur's sweatpants, and palmed him through his boxers.

Arthur jerked at the contact, sucking in a breath.

Merlin stroked him, bringing him up as he spoke, sweet, in Arthur's ear, stirring his blonde hair with his breath.

"We're in your office in the middle of the day. I've always imagined your office with a lot of natural light that falls on a wooden desk."

Arthur tipped his head back, flexing his hips into Merlin's steady hand.

"It's far too large, your desk. Something old and simple, a rich colored, golden wood. Despite everything on it, there's all this extra space, and all I can think about when I see it, is what it would feel like, under my hands, my cheek, with your hand holding me down between my shoulders."

Arthur caught his breath when Merlin reached inside his boxers, took him into his fist. He stroked slowly, twisting his wrist at the head, circling his fingers at the root.

"You have a meeting to get to, and the windows are open, and your Administrative Assistant is sitting right outside the door. But you catch me staring."

Arthur moaned as Merlin picked up the pace, began thrusting his hips into Merlin's hot fist.

"You tell your assistant not to disturb you for the next half hour, and then close and lock the door. When you come back you take me by the back of the neck and bend me over all that empty space on your desk. Tell me to keep my hands up by my head. I do it, and you pull my head up by my hair. Tell me to watch the door."

Arthur groaned, his eyes closed, imaging what Merlin imagined, his words taking hold and sinking in deep, making his hips stutter on the rhythm, the heat at the base of his spine ready to snap.

"You tell me to be quiet, or someone will hear us. And then you're inside me, fucking me into the desk like it's the last thing you'll ever do."

Arthur's back arched into Merlin's hands at the words, his spine starting to lock up on him. Merlin picked up the pace, and Arthur couldn't keep up. He was panting, his hand groping behind him for Merlin's hip, his thigh, anything. He takes hold of the bare skin, fingers digging in and Merlin moans against the back of his neck before he can continue.

"I try so hard," Merlin whispers. "Not to make any noise. But you know what I'm like when you're taking me for all I'm worth. I can't stop myself. When I come, I'm screaming your name, and I can feel the wood against my teeth when I do it."

Arthur wasn't expecting the force of the climax that Merlin ripped from him at the words. He arched away from Merlin, his back bowing, his nails tearing down Merlin's hip and thigh, and he was sure he was crying out, because the force of it couldn't be contained, but for a second there was only darkness, and the burning line inside him searing hot for long exquisite seconds until everything behind his eyelids turned white.

Merlin was kissing his neck when he came back. His shoulder, his jaw. He was panting into the pillow, his thighs shaking.

"Arthur?" Merlin prompted quietly, brushing his hair back over his ears when he saw that Arthur's eyes had opened.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured by way of response. Smiled back when he felt Merlin's lips curl up against his ear.

"How did I do?" Merlin asked, running his hands down Arthur's arms, making Arthur close his eyes. Give a pleasant hum in response.

"You're a devil in disguise," Arthur said, feeling incandescently happy. Merlin laughed, wrapped his arms around Arthur's chest. Draped one of his long legs over Arthur's still trembling hip. Arthur reached up to cover Merlin's arms with his hands, running his thumbs along the line of his wrist.

They said nothing more, falling asleep, the fire dying in the hearth, washing the room in rose gold around them.


	13. Broken Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience with me! Enjoy a double update and keep an eye out for something new coming soon 💋

* * *

The next morning, Merlin was still feeling sore and a little overstimulated, and he had to borrow a pair of too-large jeans from Arthur because his own needed to be washed. Looking at them, he wasn't entirely sure it was worth the effort, which was a shame because he genuinely loved those jeans.

He needn't have worried. Arthur hadn't been kidding when he told Merlin he would take care of his clothes for the weekend. While he and Gwaine went out to set up a meeting with Bedivere, Merlin was handed way too much money to be carrying around in his wallet, and told to go into town with Leon to get what he needed.

It brushed up against his comfort level, but Arthur had said it could be taken out of his compensation for the job as an expense and that seemed reasonable to Merlin. He really had no experience with buying anything business casual. Or business related at all. He was in jeans that didn't fit properly and a long sleeved shirt he had stuffed in his messenger bag last minute thinking he could change into it on the plane home. With his long wool coat and his black converse he felt disheveled and a little embarrassed. He hadn't spoken the entire time Leon and he were in the car. So when Leon asked him where he wanted to go, he just got more agitated.

"What's with you today?" Leon asked. "You look like someone broke your favorite toy."

"Don't be an asshole," Merlin said, feeling his cheeks heat. "I'm a mess and I have no idea where to go or what to buy."

Leon's expression softened. Became thoughtful.

"Then I have a suggestion or two, if you're up for an adventure. Just enjoy the drive. I'll take care of the rest."

Merlin leaned back and watched the scenery pass, and he had to admit that there was something beautiful and haunting about Wales. The fog and the chill air and the rolling hills all felt like a memory to him. Or a memory of a dream.

"I've never been to Wales," he said absently. Leon was driving with his wrist on the steering wheel, his other hand tapping a rhythm on his thigh in time with the radio.

"Really? I like it here. Arthur used to spend all his time in Camlan. I think he's grateful for an excuse to be back."

"Why doesn't he just work out of Wales?" Merlin asked.

"I suppose he could if he really wanted to. If he'd built the company from the ground up he probably would have. But his father built the company in London, and Arthur doesn't have the heart to relocate so many people. He knows that even if he did everything humanly possible to take them all with him, some people don't have the inclination or the resources to move away from their whole lives. And he wouldn't want them to."

Merlin thought about that, the silence between them stretching on again. Leon took him North to a set of outdoor shops painted in sharp greens and blacks, with large windows and an honest to god tailor on staff.

Merlin backed up away from the door when he saw it.

"That's way, way out of my league, Leon. Jesus."

Leon took him by the arm, hooked Merlin's elbow in his, and guided them inside.

"You work for Arthur Pendragon, remember? There is no league, Merlin. You're it."

Merlin flushed through the entire process, but the store clerks were exceptional to him. He didn't know what he expected, but he thought maybe they would have made a judgment at the state he was in when he walked in the door. But both men and the one woman on staff were very kind to him and he found himself smiling back as they made a group assessment about what colors to bring out his eyes. Leon grinned from the couch, accepting a cup of tea while he waited.

In the end, Merlin walked away with two pairs of trousers, one blue and one plum, a navy checkered, white collared shirt, and a plain pressed white one. A grey, slim cut suit coat and a cobalt blue one with a blood orange stripe pattern that he was ridiculously happy with. A blue sweater to match the suit coat. One tie, a dark plum with silver candy cane stripes. One brown belt, and a pair of rich brown oxfords to match.

When it was all said and done he thought everything looked really good on him, which he was surprised by. He'd never really felt comfortable in business attire. But for just a second, he thought he looked like the kind of person who could finish their Ph.D.

Leon surprised him by having one of the clerks put together something casual for him. He walked out of the store in a pair of form fitting dark blue jeans, cuffed at the ankle, a light denim chambray collared shirt and his very own heavy cable knit sweater. It was cream colored, with a soft collar and cuffs, and the new brown suede boots he was wearing came from the Charles Tyrwhitt shop next door, as did his oxfords. It was all comfortable and fit him like a dream. He made a mental note to remember not to knock designer clothing. There really was something extraordinary about the cut and the fit of them. Not that he would be buying anything like this again, anytime soon. Merlin felt like at any point he was going to wake up and this was all going to be some masochistic dream.

"Lookin' good Balinor," Leon grinned, opening the car door for him. Merlin rolled his eyes, smiling back.

"Arthur called," Leon said. "He's meeting Bedivere for lunch and he wants you to join him."

Merlin frowned.

"Bedivere is one of the clients Arthur lost a contract for, right?"

Leon nodded.

"Bedivere is an old friend. Used to work for us, actually, before he took over one of his Uncle's businesses. It's surprising that he would have signed a contract over to another company."

"What does Arthur need me there for?"

Leon shrugged. "You're the finance guy. Maybe he needs you to clarify something? Maybe he needs you there for moral support? Maybe he's looking forward to seeing that ass in a pair of tight jeans?"

Merlin punched him.

Leon laughed, hunching his shoulder at Merlin's hit.

"Just be yourself. You'll be fine."

* * *

At the restaurant Merlin walked through the dining room with Leon at his shoulder, trying not to feel self conscious or worry too much that his jumper was white and easily ruined by spilled food. As he approached, Arthur and Bedivere stood, and he shook hands with both of them, because he had no idea what he was meant to be doing.

Arthur was smiling. He looked radiant in a red jumper and tan chinos, his shirtsleeves cuffed to the elbow. Bedivere was an older, handsome man, with dark hair that curled around a strong jaw, his salt and pepper scruff giving him a swarthy charm and confident brown eyes. He was in a grey suit coat and, to Merlin's relief, jeans.

"Emrys Hunith," Merlin said automatically, smiling. Arthur put his hand on Merlin's shoulder as they sat, and Leon leaned over to shake Bedivere's hand and slap him on the back before disappearing into the restaurant.

"Nice to meet you Emrys, Arthur was just telling me about your trip to Wales. First time?"

Merlin smiled, feeling a little more at ease than he expected to.

"Yes, I'll be sorry to go. Camlan is beautiful."

Bedivere grinned.

"You could always come work for me," he said. Arthur smiled softly to himself.

Merlin laughed, a little surprised.

"I'll keep it in mind," he said, just to see Arthur's gaze turn to him. "But I'm very happy where I am at the moment."

Bedivere nodded, leaning back in his chair.

The waiter came over then, and they ordered drinks, Merlin sticking with water because he was terrified of having any alcohol during a business meeting. After the waiter returned to take their orders, Bedivere got right down to it.

"So you're visiting the office in Camlan," he said to Arthur taking a sip of his scotch. "I don't see a sales team but this doesn't feel like a social visit."

He tilted his glass at Merlin as he said it. Arthur smiled.

"No, it isn't. I wanted to talk to you personally, off-the-record, about the contract proposal you received from my company."

Bedivere pressed his lips together. Draped his elbow over the back of the chair.

"I have a lot of respect for you Arthur, but the offer I was made was outrageous. We've been doing this a long time, you and I. I thought maybe you'd give me a heads up if you were planning to raise your prices so drastically. I might have had time to prepare."

Arthur frowned.

"You were offered a renewal at a higher cost than your previous contract?"

Bedivere sipped his drink, watching Arthur carefully now.

"Almost double, as a matter of fact."

Arthur was silent, so Merlin took the initiative.

"Bedivere," Merlin said. "Would you still have a copy of the RFP figures?"

Bedivere set his glass down and reached for his phone.

"Sure, I can send them to you now."

Merlin gave him his email address, and if Bedivere thought it was odd that it didn't have the postscript of Arthur's company on it, he didn't mention the discrepancy.

Merlin opened the file, leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs.

"And what was the original figure?" Merlin asked, scrolling through the contract proposal.

Bedivere and Arthur gave it to him at the same time. He tapped his finger on the table as he looked over the numbers. If only he had a...

Arthur handed him a pen across the table. Merlin uncapped it with his teeth and pulled out one of the ridiculously long receipts he'd acquired that day from his wallet. Then he started writing.

Bedivere and Arthur were silent as he worked, and he was obliquely aware of them watching him. When he was done he circled the values at the bottom of his equation.

"It's a pretty steep percentage change to a single account," he said. "Bedivere is right, the amount is almost double the original figure, but not quite. It correlates to a 3% difference in your year-to-date overall."

He handed the receipt to Arthur, reaching out to take a sip of his water.

Bedivere leaned over to look.

"You know the overall figures for the entire company off the top of your head?" Bedivere asked, looking up. Merlin glanced at Arthur and then back.

"I have an eidetic memory," he said. It wasn't entirely true, but it was easier to explain that way. Numbers were simple. They made sense to him. He never forgot a value that he'd needed in his life. And he had been working through Arthur's financials all day yesterday. They were easy to recall.

Bedivere raised an eyebrow, his gaze dropping back to the receipt. Arthur was running his finger down the values, following Merlin's work with a dark look in his eyes.

"I didn't approve this," he said after a long time. "I don't know what this is."

Merlin started to answer him, but their food arrived. Arthur handed him the receipt back and said,

"Will you hold on to this?"

Merlin nodded. Slid the receipt back into his wallet.

They took a moment to begin their meal, before Bedivere started speaking again.

"Honestly, it's been such a shit market for so long, I expected you to raise the price eventually. But you see why I had to say no to this?"

Arthur nodded. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, the look in his eyes turbulent.

"I wanted to apologize, for all of this. I'll give you access to your subscription as a free trial. Whoever you've got now doesn't have the historic window you need, I'm sure. I can get you 30 days to get what you need from the products you had access to."

Bedivere took a bite of potatoes, chewed thoughtfully as he watched Arthur across the table.

"That's very generous of you," he said. "I'd appreciate that. You're right, Quest is fine. But your work is better."

Arthur smiled, proud and a little sad.

"I'm going to be looking into this. I'm sorry things didn't work out this time."

Bedivere clapped Arthur on the back, the sound hard and friendly in the quiet restaurant.

"Nothing to apologize for. That's business. I'm glad we did this, Arthur, I was worried about you."

Arthur leaned back in his chair to sip his wine.

"Worried about me?"

"After the funeral...and the change in your contract terms. All of the rumors about sex clubs and prostitutes? Yeah I was worried."

Merlin fumbled his water glass. It tipped off the table and shattered on the beautiful wood floor.

Arthur and Bedivere were on their feet. Merlin was just staring at the broken glass, his face burning.

"Sorry...I just..."

He felt Leon's hand on his shoulder and he closed his eyes.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Bedivere said as Merlin got up to let the waiter clean the mess. Merlin smiled, but it felt heavy on his mouth. He couldn't look at Arthur.

When lunch was over and he and Leon got back in the car, Merlin was silent on the drive back to Arthur's Camlan home. Leon didn't ask about lunch and he was grateful. He didn't want to open a can of old arguments. Was he the only one who could see the dangers of what they were doing? How much he didn't belong in this world with them?

In Arthur's bedroom he stared at the new clothes he'd purchased. They'd seemed to fit him this morning, but tonight they looked cartoonish and out of place in his possession.

There was a soft knock on the door. He looked up.

"Come in," he said, even though he didn't mean it.

Arthur opened the door, peered inside. Merlin gave him a wan smile.

"Knocking on your own bedroom door? That must have been odd."

"A little," Arthur admitted, stepping in and closing it behind him. Merlin sat up. He'd been slouched over his hips, elbows on his knees at the end of the bed.

"You know Bedivere wasn't directing that comment at you," Arthur asked him, without preamble.

Merlin stared at Arthur for a long time before looking away.

"It doesn't really matter if he was, or wasn't."

"It does matter," Arthur said quietly.

"Do you think," Merlin said, choosing his words carefully. "That if Bedivere knew the truth, he would still respect you and your business? Still be your friend?"

"If he didn't, then he wasn't worth much effort on my part, to begin with."

Merlin closed his eyes. He wanted to ask why - why risk so much for someone like him? But Arthur beat him to it.

"You know why," he said, reading Merlin's thoughts.

_Do you love the guy or not?_

"I believe in you, Arthur. That's why this scares me."

_Yes!_

Arthur stepped up to him. Cupped Merlin's face in his hands.

_Yes!_

"I'm not going anywhere, Merlin. I'm right here."

_Yes!_

He kissed Merlin, chaste and warm, on the forehead. His lips soft against Merlin's skin. And this was the real danger. Because Merlin didn't know how to let go of that. How to extract himself from the radiance of someone who cared about him. Someone who thought he mattered. Who made him special. It ached in the pressure of his pulse.

But he couldn't let it go.


	14. Ice Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine and Leon get snowed in.

* * *

The next morning they went back to the office. It was Sunday, and everything had that hazy, sleepy feeling to it as they walked to the front doors. Merlin was wearing his plum trousers and grey suit coat, paired with the white collared shirt and the silver striped tie. His ID badge was clipped to his belt loop, and Henry smiled at them as they made their way out from the snow.

"Really coming down today," Henry said, as they passed through the security gate.

It was. It had started snowing in earnest early, around seven am and today there was only Leon between the two of them. Gwaine was concerned the snow wasn't going to clear before the evening. He'd gone to the airport to run maintenance checks on the plane.

When Merlin set his bag down in the conference room, he had a brief moment of vertigo looking at the sheer amount of boxes that had appeared with files from Arthur's offices in London. He stared at the table, at the walls with his equations on them, and then abruptly, he knew where to start. As he came around the table he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out the receipt from yesterday afternoon. He taped it to the wall. And then he pulled every box apart until he had every contract offer or RFP listing in his hands from the last two fiscal years. He had a feeling he was going to have to go back further. But two years was a good start.

Then he pulled out his laptop and started recording numbers.

Merlin generally preferred to work by hand, but it wasn't practical in this endeavor. There were too many numbers and he could build his own reports in Excel this way, even away from the Camlan office.

It took him well into the afternoon to make a dent in recording all of the values he wanted. At half past noon he had to sit back and shake out his wrists. It had been a long time since he'd typed so much in one day.

"Hungry?"

Merlin nearly jumped a foot in the air when he heard Leon over his shoulder.

"Jesus!" He yelled, turning to look. Leon was laughing at him. Merlin sighed, relieved, and leaned back in his chair.

"A little jumpy, Balinor," Leon said, taking a seat next to him, still grinning.

"Yeah," Merlin agreed. "Just concentrating I guess."

"How's it going?"

"It's going," he said. "But a lot of this is manual work and it's going to take time."

Leon nodded, glanced around the room.

"Well let me know if you want to get anything to eat soon. It's still snowing pretty hard. We should try and get back to the manor early. I don't think we'll be flying out tonight."

Merlin frowned.

"That bad?"

"Yeah. Pretty bad. Gwaine just got back from the airport. He says that even if he felt comfortable taking off in this mess, no one at ATC would let him. And I'm not as skilled a copilot as Elyan or Percy. We're probably going to be grounded for the night at least."

Merlin nodded. He wasn't too concerned, he didn't work at Excalibur on Mondays, and he'd quit his job at the tube. But he missed Gwen and he had the meeting with Giaus on Tuesday morning that he should be preparing for.

Leon was watching his face.

"Something you'll be missing?"

Merlin glanced at him, then back at the laptop screen.

"No, not if we make it back by Monday evening. I have that meeting with the professor from Warwick on Tuesday."

Leon nodded. "We'll do what we can."

"Thanks."

"You should come up to Arthur's office. He wants to talk to you about this," Leon leaned over. Tapped the computer screen. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Should I be worried?"

Leon laughed, getting to his feet.

"No, Merlin. But I think he is."

Merlin felt instantly sorry that he hadn't offered to debrief Arthur on anything he was doing. He'd just gotten so caught up in it he hadn't thought about how this was affecting the man who's company was at the center of it all. He stood with Leon, thought about taking his suit coat and then decided against it.

They walked to the elevators and Leon took him up to Arthur's corner office, where he knocked on the doorframe gently. Arthur was standing at the windows, watching the grey clouds and snow, looking pensive. When he heard Merlin knock, he didn't turn, just said,

"Come in."

Merlin quirked a sad smile. Closed the door to Arthur's office and slid the bolt home. At the sound of his door locking, Arthur turned.

"Come here so I can kiss you," Merlin said quietly. "Before Gwaine comes to kick the door in."

Arthur smiled, crossing the room to take Merlin's face in his hands.

"You are a warlock, Merlin," he said fondly. They kissed.

They got a little bit carried away. But somehow Arthur looked no worse for wear when Merlin opened the door again and propped it, running his hands through his hair and trying to smooth out the new creases in his shirt at the same time.

He cleared his throat self-consciously when he saw Gwaine waving at him from the end of the hall. Arthur sat back down at his desk and Merlin took a seat on the other side of it.

"Leon said you wanted to talk to me?" Merlin prompted when Arthur had gone back to staring out the window momentarily.

"Leon tells me you set up a meeting with one of your professors from Warwick," Arthur started.

"Now who's the warlock?" Merlin smirked. Arthur tried to suppress a smile but couldn't quite manage it. He was trying to hold onto some measure of seriousness, and that more than anything made Merlin uncomfortable.

"I didn't realize you were trying to finish your doctorate," Arthur added carefully. Merlin waited, not sure how to respond.

"You'll need referrals, I'd expect. To get back into Warwick."

Merlin felt his shoulders tensing, but he wasn't entirely sure why. Arthur and he had done any number of explicit acts in the span of only a few months; he regularly let Arthur hit him until he bruised, until he cried. But for some reason this conversation about his Ph.D, set his teeth on edge.

"Do you like working at Excalibur?" Arthur said abruptly, changing the topic. Merlin blinked.

"I...I don't not...like it," he said lamely. At that, Arthur finally turned to look at him, and Merlin felt compelled to explain.

"I genuinely enjoyed what I did for a long time. Even after Avalon and I came London. But..."

"But?"

Merlin shrugged. "Dr. Giaus used to tell his students, that as long as you were still having fun, you were doing the work you were meant to be doing. Every morning he would ask his students, 'Are you still having fun?' It might be stressful and frustrating. But is it still a challenge, does it engage you? Are you still having fun?"

Arthur watched him, and Merlin found himself looking at his hands. Would Arthur still want to see him, if he told the truth?

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"I'm not having fun at Excalibur, anymore."

He looked up, momentarily unable to read the expression on Arthur's face.

"You know I don't care what you do," Arthur said gently, after a moment.

Merlin let out a breath through his nose. He did know. His work never bothered Arthur like it had so many others. He didn't feel like he had to hide or over explain or apologize for it. If anything, he thought sometimes he cared more than Arthur ever would, that he was a prostitute, and how that affected his choices, the rest of his everyday life.

"I know," he said.

"How long will it take you to get to the bottom of this problem we discovered with Bedivere's contract?"

Merlin thought he might get whiplash, from the changes in conversation at this rate.

"I'm not sure. A few weeks at least. There's a lot to look at, and before I make any conclusions, I'll need to talk to your legal team, if that's alright."

Arthur nodded. "I want to offer you my referral for your doctorate based on the work you're doing for me now. If you're comfortable with that."

Merlin blinked.

"Oh, well..." he trailed off quietly, and Arthur turned a knowing smile on him. He felt his face heat.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that if you want to go back to school, I'm glad to be a reference."

Merlin smiled at him over the desk.

"I know, and that's...I'm flattered really, if I do decide...if Giaus is willing to take me back, I'll tell him."

Arthur laughed.

"Why wouldn't he take you back, Merlin? You're brilliant."

Merlin was silent. He wasn't looking at Arthur.

"Merlin?"

"I was still enrolled when the news about Sigan and Avalon broke," he answered finally. "It's been four years so maybe..."

He shrugged.

Arthur's expression darkened.

"I wanted to talk to you about some other related things," he said after his expression cleared. "But I'd rather not do it in an office across a desk."

Merlin smiled uneasily.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Leon tells me we probably won't be making it home tonight?"

Arthur propped his elbows on his desk and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"No, it's getting worse, not better. We should probably leave sooner rather than later. How much more time do you need?"

"As much as you can give me," Merlin said.

"Okay, let's get ready to leave..." he shook out his watch. "By two. I'll come down to the conference room then."

Merlin stood to go, and then paused in the doorway.

"Arthur?" He said, turning to look at him over his shoulder. Arthur looked up.

"I'm having fun, with you."

He didn't wait for a response. Just turned and walked to the elevator, the color on his cheeks a little high.

Leon met him at the elevator doors.

"What's the plan, Stan?" He said, stepping inside.

"I've got a little less than two hours to record as many of the values from Arthur's contract offers and recorded RFPs as I possibly can. And then we're going to head back to the manor, so we don't get stuck out here."

Leon nodded.

"Anything I can do?"

* * *

When Arthur came down to the conference room with Gwaine, he was not entirely prepared for what was happening.

Leon was sitting on the conference table in front of Merlin's laptop, surrounded by multiple piles of papers. He was holding one up for Merlin, while he fished around for another behind him.

"This one is 2017, Fall capture season, this one is..." Leon turned the paper over, scanning the document before saying. "Fall...2014? Where did this come from?"

Merlin reached for the paper, his fingers arresting on the keys of his laptop.

"2014? I only pulled contracts in 2 year increments."

Gwaine was grinning. Arthur felt his lips stretching wider to accommodate the smile.

"I know that's why it's weird," Leon sniped.

"Well let's see it then," Merlin said, still holding out his hand.

"I'll just put it back in the box."

Merlin groaned, lowered his head, hand _still_ outstretched.

"You're infuriating. Let me see it."

Leon slapped the paper into Merlin's hand just as he realized Arthur and Gwaine were standing at the door.

"Oy!" He said, swinging his legs down off the table. "Is it that time already? I wouldn't know. Balinor has a no clock rule in his workspace."

Merlin still hadn't looked up from the paper he was studying. He said absently.

"Clocks are distracting to deadlines."

Gwaine barked out a laugh.

Merlin was up and moving, but slowly, keeping one eye on the report. He scanned it three times, and Arthur recognized his technique for committing numbers to memory.

"Should I be worried you'll be asking me for a finance position?" Arthur teased, crossing his arms.

Leon snorted.

"I was just calling out numbers and passing him papers. I'll get back to patrolling, thanks."

"You do that," Arthur chuckled. "Ready Merlin?"

Merlin nodded, shrugging into his heavy wool coat. His laptop was safely packed away and his cell phone was in his pocket. He glanced around the room one more time before he nodded to himself.

"I'm good, let's go."

They walked down to the main lobby, Merlin staring at his feet. Counting his steps. Arthur watched him out of the corner of his eye. When they came to the front doors, Merlin came up short.

"Henry?" Merlin asked, turning toward the man behind the desk. "What are you still doing here?"

Arthur looked up.

Henry glanced nervously between Merlin and Arthur. Gwaine and Leon raised an eyebrow at each other.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Mr. Hunith, I'll be along as soon as the roads clear a little bit. I don't want my daughter driving out here to get me in this."

Arthur took a small step forward, putting him shoulder to shoulder with Merlin.

"Let us bring you home, Henry. We don't know if the roads will clear by morning. There's no sense in sleeping on the lobby couch."

Henry smiled a little. Glanced around his desk.

"I'll need to lock up..." he said, reaching for his key ring.

"Leon can help you," Arthur said. "We'll bring the car around."

Merlin felt his chest swell, watching Arthur with the old man. He was about to thank Arthur, when Gwaine opened the door and they were hit with a blast of frozen, snow blown air. The wind was so loud Merlin was reminded of being under water when the ocean rolled over you. He threw up an arm, but it didn't help. He staggered out onto the sidewalk with Arthur, when the wind gusted again and Arthur slipped, coming down hard on his hip.

"Arthur!"

Merlin was on his knees, trying to pull him up out of the snow, but something was wrong, and Arthur was too heavy for him. Gwaine was there, leaned in so Arthur could say something to him. Over the wind Merlin couldn't hear what it was. And then he was pulling Arthur to his feet, an arm over his shoulder and gesturing for Merlin to follow him back to the front doors.

"Stay here with him," Gwaine said, when they were back inside. He settled Arthur down on one of the lobby waiting chairs. "I'll bring the car up to the door."

And then he was gone.

Merlin was at a loss. He knelt beside the chair and put his hand on Arthur's wet knee. Drew it back like he'd been burned when Arthur flinched, his face locked in a scowl.

"What is it?" Merlin asked, sensing that this wasn't just a fall. Arthur glanced at him. Absently cupped the back of Merlin's head in his gloved hand.

"I'll be alright," he whispered. "Try not to worry too much in front of Henry."

Merlin turned his head so that he could feel Arthur's hand on his cheek and then stood when he heard Leon behind them.

"Hey boss, I thought..." he jogged the rest of the way, immediately concerned. He looked Arthur over and then turned to look at the storm outside.

"Ice?" He said.

Arthur nodded. Henry was walking up behind them, pulling on his coat. He looked worried when he saw Arthur and Merlin, soaked in snow. But Gwaine was pulling the car up to the door, and Merlin reflexively turned to Henry before he could ask anything of Arthur and Leon.

"Henry, let me help you outside. It's very windy and the walk is slick." He offered his arm, which Henry took, reaching up to hold his hat down on his head.

Merlin was slightly better prepared the second time, but it was still a brutal fourteen seconds to get to the SUV. He put Henry in the center seat, on the far side, and climbed in the back.

Leon helped Arthur in beside Henry, before climbing in the passenger seat beside Gwaine. Merlin was worried. Arthur looked pale and tense and he couldn't say or do anything until Henry was out of the car, because Arthur had asked him not to worry.

And the ride was agonizingly slow. Merlin bounced his foot in the back as Gwaine made amicable conversation with Henry, whille he remained just as silent and agitated as Arthur.

When they finally made it to Henry's home, a quaint little cottage not far from the south shore of Camlan where Arthur's manor was, Henry unexpectedly turned to Merlin with a grateful smile and tipped his hat.

"Thank you for your help, young man," he said, and his smile was warm and made Merlin smile back without thinking.

"Anytime. Have a good night, Henry. Be careful out there."

He nodded and patted Arthur on the shoulder, before shaking Gwaine and Leon's hands. His daughter was waiting at the door for him, waving to them in the SUV.

As soon as Henry was safely inside, Merlin had the urge to climb over the seat into the one Henry had vacated. But instead he reached for Arthur's shoulder, and squeezed.

"You're holding your breath," he murmured. Arthur reached up and squeezed Merlin's hand. Held it to his collarbone and tilted his head back against the headrest. He didn't speak, and that more than anything made Merlin afraid.

When they got back to the manor, Gwaine and Leon helped Arthur up the stairs, Merlin trailing behind, uncertain.

"What can I do?" He said finally, when they sat Arthur slowly on the his bed.

"Get him undressed," Gwaine said, leaving the room. Leon ran a hand through his hair and shucked off his coat as he explained.

"Gwaine is going to get some things from downstairs in the kitchen. I'm going to draw a bath. Will you be alright?"

Merlin nodded. There was no thought of embarrassment. He simply knelt in front of Arthur and helped him peel off his gloves. Then to lift off his jumper. He was up on his knees between Arthur's thighs unbuttoning his shirt when he finally got the courage to ask him what happened.

"I have an old injury," Arthur said. His voice sounded hollow and controlled. Like someone trying not to yell.

"What injury?" Merlin asked carefully, separating each of Arthur's cuffs with care.

"It's a long story," Arthur sighed, and it was clear he was in far more pain than he looked. And he looked awful.

Merlin kept his hands on Arthur's skin the whole time he helped him undress, grounding, reminding. He was here. And he wasn't going to leave. Whatever he could do, he would do it.

Arthur kept his hand on Merlin's shoulder as he worked, fingers tightening whenever the pain crescendoed. Merlin could barely stand it, the thought of Arthur being in so much pain.

When he'd gotten Arthur out of his trousers and he was down to his pants Merlin got under his shoulder, and helped him into the bathroom. Leon met them at the door. Gwaine was just getting back into the room when Merlin and Leon had lowered Arthur into the bath.

Merlin immediately understood that Arthur was uncomfortable with the attention, with the help. So he stood to go when Gwaine walked in, and even though it killed him, he said,

"I'll be right outside, if you need anything."

Gwaine gave him an appraising look and nodded. Leon leaned across the tub and said,

"Maybe some tea?"

Merlin nodded, grateful. He could do tea.

He went to his bag, and pulled out a tin he'd hidden there. He was planning to give it to Arthur, for what, he wasn't entirely sure. But he hadn't gotten up the nerve yet to give it to him anyway. He ran his thumbs over the tin, a squat, sea foam green container with gold accents. There was a white oval sticker on the front that his mother had painted in watercolors, writing over the whimsical scene in her beautiful calligraphy: Sea Nettle & Salt.

She'd painted it especially, when he said he wanted to give it as a gift to a friend. All of her teas had a tiny watercolor painting associated to it. Her little shop in Ireland was covered in them. Although this was his favorite tea, his favorite painting was for a chestnut blend that she made by request only. It depicted a fairy shire with glowing fairy orbs so delicate and intricate you could see the pattern of butterfly wings inside each of the little lights. She painted him a canvas of it for Christmas one year and it was still hanging in his bedroom on the far wall. But this painting was one of a kind. She'd made it especially for Arthur. 

Looking at the tea tin now, as he made his way to the kitchen, Merlin wondered if he would ever have the courage to let Arthur all the way into his life, the way Arthur had made room in his life, for Merlin. It hadn't sunk in until he was standing in the manor kitchen, not sure where to start, and remembering that Arthur knew where the mugs and the kettle and the tea tins were in his little kitchen in Brixton.

"Sir?"

Merlin turned, startled, and nearly dropped the tin in his hands. It was the groundskeeper, although Merlin couldn't remember his name now. He fumbled for it in his memory, but all he had were numbers and fairy lights and the look on Arthur's face, like stone.

"I'm...I'm sorry," he said a little breathless. "I was..."

The groundskeeper approached, put his big hands on Merlin's shoulders.

"You look a mess, son," he said. "Are you alright?"

Merlin nodded, and then abruptly stopped. He didn't feel alright. He felt like he was on an island in the middle of a great, wide sea and there was no end in either direction. The man eyed him, seemed to understand, and nodded once.

"Come sit," he said, and Merlin heard the Irish lilt to his accent for the first time as he guided Merlin to the table.

"Oh," Merlin hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. "I was going to make some tea. Maybe you could help me?"

He handed the man the tea tin, because he didn't know what else to do. The man took it, looked it over and smiled suddenly warm and affectionate.

"Hunith's tea, eh?" He said. "Magical stuff. Her breakfast tea is the kind you can stand a spoon up in. You've got good taste."

"You know Hunith?" He asked, shell shocked, following the man around the counter to the far wall.

"Oh, aye. I try to stop in whenever I'm back home, but I admit it's been longer now than I've meant it to be."

Merlin hesitated a fraction, and then said, "Hunith is my mother."

The man turned to him, his eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"Is that so? I thought you introduced yourself as Emrys? Hunith's son is..."

He snapped his fingers a few times as he opened cabinets, pulling out an electric kettle.

"Merlin," he said. "That's my given name. Emrys is my middle name."

"You go by Emrys then?" The man said, taking the kettle to the sink, Merlin trailing behind.

"You can call me Merlin," he said. "I'm sorry I don't remember your name."

He was a squat man, with powerful shoulders and an exceptionally full beard. He looked like a favorite grandfather, or Santa Claus.

"You can call me Wyllt. Or Wyll. Whatever you prefer."

Merlin watched as he plugged the kettle in, and wandered a little further down the counter to retrieve some mugs.

"How many will we need? I saw Gwaine tossing about earlier. He looked troubled. Is everything okay?"

Merlin sagged a little.

"I suppose we should make some for everyone, but I think they sent me down to get me out of the way. Arthur slipped on the ice outside and took a bad fall. Gwaine and Leon are with him now."

"Ah," Wyllt said, sounding worried now himself. "Tea for all then. Why don't you pull a tray out from the cabinet there...no, the next one. Higher. That's it."

Merlin opened the cabinet, removed a wooden tray with handles.

"He's a tough one, Arthur, but ever since he came back from Afghanistan, he's had to have a few surgeries on that left side of his. He took a bullet in the hip, never healed right. Sometimes it acts up, but if he's fallen on it, he might be off his feet for a while."

Merlin felt his world shrink to a pinpoint for a moment, and then refocus.

"I didn't know Arthur was in the army. He told me he'd gone to Uni, I just assumed..."

Wyllt was taking the mugs and the tea tin and placing them on the tray.

"He did for a spell. Went back to school after he was discharged."

"Did you know him then?" Merlin knew he was prying, but he couldn't help himself.

"I've been with the Pendragon family since Arthur was born," Wyllt said matter-of-factly. "Do you take milk in your tea?"

Merlin blinked. "This tea is best with milk, in my opinion."

Wyllt nodded with a smile.

"Alright, let's get a flask of the stuff and then we'll take it up. I'll carry the kettle, if you carry the rest."

Merlin nodded with a smile.

They moved up the stairs slowly, partially for Wyllt's sake, and partially because Merlin was afraid to tip the tray with so many things on it.

"Have you worked for Arthur long?" Wyllt asked. Merlin shook his head. The lie was surprisingly easy.

"I'm just reviewing his financials. He wanted a second opinion."

"Must be a good one," Wyllt said, smiling at Merlin. "Hunith always said you had a brain on you."

Merlin let out a surprised laugh.

"That does sound like something she would say," he agreed. "I wish I could place your face. I feel like we must have met before."

"Oh I remember a skinny black-haired colt, always in and out. Always doing this and that. It doesn't surprise me that you don't remember an old customer like me."

Merlin smiled fondly at Wyllt, as they made their way down the hall.

"I wish I did," he said honestly. Wyllt grinned at him.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you around," he said, pushing the door open to Arthur's room with a soft knock.

Arthur was in a chair by the fire in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, his hair damp and his eyes still hard. Gwaine was putting things away on the bed in a small kit. Syringes. Merlin let his eyes skip over them, trying not to commit the sight to memory. Leon was hanging towels in the bathroom.

"Merlin brought you some tea," Wyllt announced as they entered, and at the sound of his first name all heads came up to look at them. Merlin felt his cheeks heat. "Didn't know you had the employ of the son of the most famous tea mistress in Ireland. I know what I'll be asking you for Christmas this year, Arthur."

Leon was grinning slowly from the bathroom door. Arthur was frowning a little.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes gentling when the tray was set down on the table by his chair. Wyllt nodded, and unabashed, made himself a cup before leaving the room.

"Off to do my rounds!" he said, and was gone. Merlin watched him go, feeling an odd affection for the old man. And aware of the eyes on him as Wyllt left, he sighed, and picked up the tea tin from the tray and handed it to Arthur.

"My mother made it," he said, catching himself before he added _for you_. "He recognized the label. He knows her. Used to come around the shop when I was a kid."

Gwaine whistled.

"What are the odds?" He asked.

Arthur was studying the tin, running his fingers over the little painting. Leon started pouring cups for all of them.

"Famous tea mistress huh?" He asked, barely controlling his smile.

Before he could answer, Arthur broke in, still holding the tea tin, staring at the fire now.

"Thank you, Leon, Gwaine. I'll let you know if I need anything."

Gwaine clapped Arthur, gently, Merlin noted, on the shoulder, picking up a mug as he passed Arthur's chair.

"No you won't," he said with a smile. "But Merlin will."

Arthur sighed.

Merlin watched as Leon raised his own mug in salute before shutting the door behind him and Gwaine. They seemed remarkably unaffected by the whole evening. Merlin still felt adrift.

He turned when Arthur rattled the tea tin, holding it up with a raised eyebrow in question. Merlin flushed a little, and then, kneeling at Arthur's knee, took the tin from him.

"I told my mother you liked it," he said quietly, his face suddenly hot. "She paints her labels. This one she made for you."

He turned it around so Arthur could see, a picture of a knight cloaked in red, standing at the shores of some dark blue water, astride a magnificent golden horse, glittering gold and silver stars falling from its wind-swept mane.

Arthur touched the picture with his finger tips, as if afraid to smudge the label.

"I was going to wait to give it to you," Merlin said, a little self-consciously. "To thank you, for letting me help you here in Wales. For..." he trailed off.

Arthur tucked a finger under his chin, tilted Merlin's glacial blue gaze up, to meet his own.

"For what, Merlin?"

Merlin felt himself tumbling over the edge of that shoreline, plunging directly into that dark water.

"For everything," he said quietly. Arthur smiled, radiantly, devoid of pain for a few precious moments.

"I love it. Will you pass something along to her, when I get a chance?"

Merlin was surprised by the answer. He tilted his head down, captured Arthur's hand in his own and slid it to his own cheek. Holding Arthur's hand there.

"Of course."

"I'm sorry for today," Arthur said.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Merlin shook his head. "How are you feeling?"

"A little banged up," Arthur said smoothly. "But I'll survive."

Merlin nodded, lowered his cheek to Arthur's knee. Closed his eyes when Arthur began running his hands through his curls.

"Is there anything I can do?" He murmured. Arthur considered him, and then said, surprising Merlin right down to his toes,

"You can pour me a cup of tea, and then kneel, back straight."

Merlin's head came up so fast, he was surprised he didn't feel his ears pop. He stared into Arthur's eyes for a beat, heat pooling under his skin.

"Sir?" He whispered, uncertain. Arthur smiled, and Merlin had to suppress a moan.

"You heard me," he said. "You won't like it if I have to repeat myself."

Merlin stood, gracefully from the floor. He always seemed to manage more grace in his role as Emrys than in his everyday life. But here he was carried by Arthur's need, and it felt like flying.

He was careful with the tea. Made it exactly how he liked it himself, as Gwen had made it the night Arthur had come to their apartment for the first time. He felt the hot buzzing under his skin like white noise, as he settled into his own headspace. He didn't know what they would do. Arthur was injured and the normal scene for them was definitely out of the question. But Merlin trusted Arthur, and so after he'd poured the water over to let the tea steep, Merlin knelt between Arthur's open knees, and straightened his back.

Arthur watched him, his forefinger against his lips, humming his approval when Merlin lowered his eyes, managed to keep his fidgeting at bay. Merlin felt warm all over, closing his eyes momentarily to let the feeling wash over him.

"I love watching you work," Arthur said after the silence had stretched. Merlin listened to the sound of glass tinkling as Arthur removed the tea strainer from his mug. Stirred slowly. "But you have trouble coming down when you're focused on numbers all day."

Merlin was touched. He'd mentioned it in passing, but as Arthur continued it was clear he had been paying attention, and that made his heart swell unexpectedly.

"You continue counting long after you're finished. Steps, snowflakes on the windshield. Tiles on the floor."

Merlin waited patiently, sinking a little deeper with every moment, into the sound of Arthur's voice.

"You're brilliant Merlin. Exceptional," he said. It made Merlin suddenly, inexplicably emotional. He drew in a shaky breath. Felt tears at the corners of his eyes.

"But times like those, you need silence, or you'll never stop counting."

Arthur paused to sip his tea, gingerly crossing his legs at the ankle, so that his shin was barely brushing the outside of Merlin's arm.

"Tell me what you need," Arthur said. Commanded. Merlin had to hold his breath for a second before he could lift his eyes.

"Arthur," he said softly, and he saw the change in Arthur's eyes, the softening, recognizing that this wasn't part of the game. It was real and important. And he listened. "I want you to hit me until I can't think straight. I want you to hit me until I come. With whatever tools you see fit to use."

Arthur's gaze became predatory at the words, his hand still around the mug.

"But I want you to do it when you're not hurting, yourself. Tonight, I'm happy here. If that's alright with you."

Arthur smiled a little sadly. Set the tea down on the table at his side.

"I have pins in my hip," he said without preamble. "Seven screws, to be exact. The healing process was long, and caused some severe arthritis in my knee. Sometimes when I get up in the mornings, I fall."

Merlin frowned, wondering how he could have missed the stiffness in Arthur's side. His memories of waking up with Arthur shifting, taking on a new light.

"I've taken a muscle relaxant. So we wouldn't be able to play tonight, not really. But I'll be happy with this too."

Merlin inched closer on his knees. Looking up at Arthur from the floor.

"When you talk to me," Merlin said. "I get the same silence, when you tell me about your day."

Arthur smiled at him. Reached out a hand. Merlin let Arthur guide his head to the inside of Arthur's knee. Allowed him to shift, finding a comfortable place curled up between Arthur's legs. He wrapped one hand around Arthur's calf, drawing patterns with his thumb while Arthur carded his fingers through Merlin's hair, and began to speak.


	15. The Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy long weekend everyone! Enjoy a chapter today and look for another tomorrow 💋

* * *

Arthur was asleep long before Merlin. He lay in the bed with Arthur, draped over him in his new sweater and a pair of sweatpants Arthur had let him borrow. He was feeling dreamy and contented and happy to lay against Arthur with the dying fire behind them.

Merlin was just drifting off when his phone buzzed.

He considered ignoring it. But with the bad weather and all that had happened, he realized suddenly he'd forgotten to call Gwen and tell her he was going to be another day at least. She was probably wondering what had happened.

He picked up his mobile and thumbed open the screen. Tried not to react.

There was another photo. This one was of him, on the stage the night he dropped, screaming at Arthur, who looked hard-edged and ragged, pulling at the complicated rope tie encasing his arms and his back.

> Boys and their toys, am I right?

Then, as he was staring the phone buzzed in his hand, making him jump. Another message populated, under the first.

> Where have you gone?

Arthur stirred when his phone buzzed a third time, and Merlin stopped breathing. It was another photo, this one of him coming down the stairs of his apartment, dressed in his black jeans and sweater, heading for the black charger on the corner.

He slid from the bed as carefully as he could, but his legs were shaking and it wasn't easy. He left the room before Arthur could wake, or if he had woken, before he could ask Merlin what was wrong. The door clattered shut behind him, his hands too unsteady to ease it home without making a sound.

Outside in the darkened hallway Merlin was aware of the sound of his own breathing. It was a wet, hollow gasping and it felt like his ribcage was folding in on itself. He wanted to slide the floor and stay there, but he made himself move for the stairs, one hand on the wall.

His phone was still buzzing. He refused to look. It was all he could do to make it down the stairs. The kitchen light was still on. He went in there, pulled out a stool and hit the only speed-dial number he'd ever programmed into a phone. Gwaine picked up on the first ring.

"Merlin?"

"Can you come down to the kitchen?" He asked, breathless and trying not to sound hysterical. "Please?"

"I'll be right there."

He was, and Merlin was too relieved to be embarrassed. He gasped, still heaving for breath, somehow it had gotten harder, how was it so hard to breathe?

Gwaine put a hand on the back of his neck, forced his head down between his shoulders.

"Breathe, Merlin. You're safe. What happened?"

Merlin handed him the phone.

Gwaine swore.

"Arthur doesn't...he's still asleep."

Gwaine nodded, his hand tightening on Merlin's neck, and that was good. Merlin closed his eyes. Pulled in a ragged breath.

"Merlin, come on, I need you to focus. You're safe. No one is here but us. It's alright."

"What about Gwen?" He hissed through clenched teeth. "That's our apartment."

"I know, it's okay. I'll send Elyan to check on her but first you have to breathe Merlin. I need to know where this picture was taken."

Merlin choked on another sob.

"The demonstration, the night I met you. At Excalibur. It's an open event. Any...anyone can..."

He coughed, unable to finish. Gwaine squeezed his neck again.

"I need to give this to Leon. Will you be alright for a few minutes?"

Merlin nodded. He lowered his head to the marble, pressed his cheek to the cool surface. He listened as Gwaine left, taking with him the steady weight of his hand on Merlin's neck, and he felt helpless. Alone.

"Merlin?"

He looked up, aware of the tears on his lashes though none had fallen yet to wet his cheeks. Wyllt was standing at the doorway of the kitchen, holding an old lantern. For one odd moment, the scene didn't quite make sense to Merlin. He looked like something out of a fairy tale. An old wizard, perhaps, appearing out of a dark forest. The incongruity of it broke Merlin's anxiety for a few precious seconds and he felt like he could breathe again.

"Sorry if I woke you," Merlin said quietly. He ran both his hands over his face even though he knew he must look terrible. "I couldn't sleep."

Wyllt looked skeptical and concerned, and Merlin held his breath, staring down at the countertop, praying that the old man wouldn't ask him why.

"That's understandable," Wyllt said gently, setting the lantern on the counter. "You've had a long day."

Merlin couldn't stop the snort he gave at the statement.

"Sometimes," Merlin said impulsively. "There's too much noise in my head. So much noise...that I can't hear anything at all."

Wyllt drew a little closer, peering down at Merlin's fidgeting hands, the tiny tremor in his shoulders. But he did not comment on any of those things.

"I think I know what you mean," he said. "When I feel like my thoughts are too loud for my old head, I walk the grounds. Set things to right if they're out of place. Let the quiet in."

Merlin blew out a breath.

"That sounds nice," he said absently.

"Merlin, did something happen?"

He looked up, stared into Wyllt's face for a long time, measuring the concern and the warmth in the creases around his blue eyes. He had the urge to tell this man, to tell him that only hours ago he had been planning to talk to Arthur about cancelling their agreement, not to stop their encounters. But to stop Arthur paying him for them. He wanted to tell Wyllt that he saw something in Arthur he'd never seen before. A part of himself, a piece he had been looking for in all the wrong places before the younger Pendragon walked through his door. But he couldn't say any of those things, now. It was all turning to ash in his mouth.

Breakfast at the round table in Cavendish, and bouquets of wool socks seemed so far out of his reach now.

He realized he'd been looking too long at the old man. Cleared his throat and forced a smile. What little of it he could manage, anyway.

"No," he said. "It's just that this job is really important to me. I don't want to lose it."

Wyllt gave him a look. Merlin didn't flinch. It was the closest to the truth he was willing to get.

"Can I show you something?" Wyllt said.

Merlin sat up a little straighter, and then glanced back to the hall where Gwaine had left.

"I think Gwaine is coming back," he said lamely. Wyllt chuckled.

"I know, lad. We'll just be a few doors down. He'll be able to find you."

Curious, Merlin stood and followed Wyllt into the hall. He was carrying this lantern again and in the shadows it cast on the walls, Merlin could imagine that they were two sorcerers, guarding the halls of an ancient library, or a forgotten kingdom. Wyllt paused to reach for his keys, and then opened a heavy wooden door.

Inside he did not turn on the lights. There was no need. The entire wall opposite the door was made of paneled glass, as was the ceiling. It let in the moonlight reflecting off the snow outside, giving the room a dim, bluish glow to it. And in the center of the room was a piano.

Merlin wandered past Wyllt, transfixed, and ran his hands along the instrument. At first he thought it was a custom grand piano. It was not traditionally smooth or black, instead made from a deep reddish wood, and carved with a swirling flourish around the legs and music stand. And then he leaned into the body of the instrument, ducking his head beneath the cover and his breath caught in his throat. The strings weren't running front to back, like they would in a grand piano. They were fanned out in an unusual angle that could almost be described as diagonal. But not quite.

Merlin turned to look at Wyllt, eyes wide and unable to contain their excitement.

"Is this a Cocked Hat piano?" He whispered.

Wyllt laughed. "Very good. Not many can tell the difference. But I seem to recall a coltish young boy who spent a great deal of time at his mother's upright piano. I thought you might appreciate it."

Merlin let out a breath as he ran his hands along the smooth heavy wood.

"I haven't played the piano since I was a teenager," he murmured. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He still plucked out a few songs at his mother's request on the holidays, or while she was painting on the rare occasions that he visited her. But that wasn't the kind of playing he meant. Wyllt seemed to understand.

"You don't have to," he said.

But Merlin was already sliding onto the bench, lifting the cover. Wyllt remained by the door, smiling.

He played a few notes with one hand, testing the tuning. It sounded low and heavenly and rang through his bones. He brought his left hand up then, and played a short theme he'd practiced over and over as a boy. It was perfectly in tune. Merlin smiled up at Wyllt. The old man nodded to the keys.

Merlin began to play.

It was easy, like Maths; the patterns and the notes coming back to him as though they'd never gone. He counted in his head, feeling his shoulders relax, because playing the piano was a game of fractions, and he could hear the numbers when he played, and everything else fell away, tumbling off the bars of the music in his head. He'd forgotten, how had he forgotten how much he loved this? He was playing from memory, and so there were gaps, but he skipped over them, transitioning into new pieces, sometimes improvising his own.

The piano was exquisite. He'd never played on anything like it before. He didn't want the sound filling the room to end. It ebbed and flowed, sometimes filling the vast parlor room to the ceiling, sometimes creeping along its glass walls. His wrists ached but he couldn't bring himself to stop. The numbers were cascading into white noise in his head now. He felt calm for the first time in days.

But it had been a long time since he'd played anything this long or complicated, and eventually his memories of the classical pieces he'd loved as a boy faded, as did the sounds of the keys beneath his steady fingers. He wanted to play more, but he would need music for that. Instead he closed his eyes and savored the ringing end to his final notes and then turned to Wyllt with a radiant smile.

He nearly fell off the bench. Gwaine and Leon were staring at him, slack jawed, next to a grinning groundskeeper who tilted his hat to Merlin before slipping back out into the hall. He was suddenly grateful it was dark. He was sure he was beet red.

Gwaine recovered first.

"Merlin," he said, his tone so serious that Merlin had to close his eyes, turn back to the piano. His heart dropped.

Before Gwaine could finish, he closed the cover on the keyboard, and spoke instead.

His voice was quiet, and a little tremulous, but it carried in the atrium.

"This has to stop," he said. "The longer this goes on, the worse it will be for everyone."

Gwaine and Leon were silent. Merlin ran his hands along the wooden cover, surprised by how calm he felt.

"Merlin," Gwaine tried again. "We need to talk to you. Let's go to the office."

Merlin's shoulders sagged. He didn't feel like talking. He wanted to go upstairs, and wrap his arms around Arthur and breathe him in one more time before he did what needed to be done. Before he left, for good. For all of their sakes. For Arthur, and Leon, and Gwaine. For Gwen, and his mother. Even though it would be the hardest thing he would ever do in his life. Even if it felt like dying.

He stood. Followed Gwaine and Leon silently down to their offices, in the furthest wing of the first floor of the manor, directly below Arthur's rooms.

He couldn't even muster up the necessary embarrassment when he realized it. He just felt numb.

He sat in one of the chairs they offered him, and waited. Leon closed the door. Gwaine took something from the printer and handed it to Merlin. It was a photo.

"Do you recognize this man?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin looked over the picture, the gaunt, almost hollow eyes, the thinning hair, the skeletal sharpness of the man's bones pressing against his waxy skin. He was walking down a cobbled road in a worn wool coat, and he appeared to be looking around, as if concerned he was being followed. He was sure he didn't know this man. But there was something itching at the back of his memory. Something that gave him pause. Slowly, Merlin shook his head.

"No," he said finally, his gaze lingering on the picture a moment longer before he raised his eyes to Gwaine's. "Should I?"

Leon frowned.

"We don't know," Gwaine said gently. "We think this is the person who's been texting you. His name is Cedric, but that's all we know right now. I was hoping that you might be able to give us some direction..." he trailed off, and then added. "As to why he would be harassing you like this."

Merlin tossed the photo unceremoniously onto the desk. He felt hot and angry.

"Since this whole thing started, I've been assaulted in an alley, had my ass grabbed in public too many times to count, and reporters so far up my ass I can hear them in my sleep."

Gwaine jerked back as if slapped. Leon took a step forward, but Merlin wasn't finished. His whole body felt like a tuning fork set to the wrong key.

"They're all strangers to me. I don't have the faintest clue as to why any of them think it's perfectly fine to put their hands on me, to shout obscenities at the Tesco's on the corner or the bank or anywhere else I go when I leave my flat. It doesn't matter who he is. It isn't going to stop."

Leon looked like the air had been punched out of him. Gwaine reached out but Merlin drew back sharply. He didn't want to be touched.

"No, don't. _Don't_. This isn't going to be fixed with a pat on the back!"

He hadn't meant to shout. But he wasn't sorry. Gwaine closed his hand into a fist. Drew it back to his lap.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," he said. "But this man can place Arthur at Excalibur with you. We need to know as much as we can about him, about what's driving him. Why hasn't he sold the photo? Why let the papers spin rumors if he has proof?"

Merlin was shaking his head, already starting to stand.

"I don't care," he said venomously. "I don't care anymore. When we get back to London, I'll break it off. All of it. I'll quit Excalibur and Gwen and I will leave. Then it will be over. There won't be anything left to print."

He was up and moving but Leon was blocking the door. Gwaine was on his feet now too. Leon's hands were clenched into fists at his sides. The look in his eyes was explosive.

"Move." Merlin said coldly. Leon drew in a breath to respond but Gwaine cut in first.

"Hey!" He snapped, surprising Merlin. "This isn't about you anymore. You don't get to just walk away!"

Merlin whirled on him.

"I told you! I told you this would happen and that I couldn't do it again! Not for me you ass! Because I watched everyone in my life sacrifice something they loved for me through the press and that fucking court case and all of the fallout that came after! Gwen and Lancelot were happy! They were going to get married and after Sigan they couldn't look at each other! My mother made herself _sick_ listening to people gossip about me, about what I did for a living, hearing things she never should have heard! Doctor Giaus went out on a limb for me! And it nearly killed his career! Don't you fucking tell me what I can and can't do, Gwaine. I've done this before, not you. You have no idea, _no idea_ what I carry. So don't tell me I'm strong enough to carry any more. Because I'm telling you I'm _not_."

He was heaving for breath when he'd finished. Gwaine looked stunned. Merlin turned. Leon's fists had slackened at his sides.

" _Move_." Merlin hissed.

This time, he did.

...

Outside in the snow, Merlin crouched on the stone walkway and cried. It was an angry, wailing thing that carried into the trees, amplified by the wind and the snow, and he didn't care about the cold, and the way it stuck in his lungs as he gasped for air.

And then suddenly Leon was there, trying to pull him up, but Merlin struggled.

"Let go of me!"

He was twisting in Leon's iron grip, railing at him incoherently, until he was pinned, his face against Leon's chest, arms stuck between them, Leon all but crushing him with his hands fisted in the back of Merlin's sweater to hold him still.

"Merlin!" Leon hissed. "Listen to me! Listen _for once_ , goddamnit!"

Merlin was gripping the collar of Leon's shirt now, hard enough to tear it, his forehead pressed against Leon's sternum. And over the sound of wind, and the snow sliding over the stone, he could hear his rapidly beating heart.

"Why are you trying so hard to do this all by yourself?" Leon snapped.

"I'm the only one who can," Merlin shouted back. "Why am I the only one who sees how dangerous this is?!"

"You're not, Merlin, for god sakes. You're not. We're all here for you. But we can't help you if you run at every bump in the road!"

Merlin tried to shove him away, furious, but Leon's grip was too tight.

"This isn't a bump in the road Leon!"

"It is! What's happened Merlin? Some asshole sending you anonymous text messages?"

Merlin slapped him. Hard. The feeling of it went ringing against his palm and Leon reeled back, finally releasing him.

"They aren't just text messages," Merlin roared, angry tears freezing on his lashes. "You know they're not!"

Leon took him by the collar, pulled him up roughly so they were nearly nose to nose.

"Here's what I do know. I know that you're scared. You're thinking that if you had just walked away sooner then maybe the Sigan scandal wouldn't have been as bad. And now here you are, with an opportunity to fix that mistake so you're going to pretend it's your only option."

Merlin had wrapped his hands around Leon's wrists, planning to tear them off if need be, but now he could only stare, the wind kicking up the snow between them.

"This isn't the same thing, Merlin!" Leon shouted, shaking him. "You have me, and Gwaine, and the whole Pendragon fucking _Estate_ if you need it. You have Arthur, and he needs you. We aren't going to leave you. So don't you dare turn your back on us!"

Merlin stared, wide-eyed, the grip he had on Leon's wrists keeping him steady.

"Arthur doesn't need me," Merlin whispered after the silence had stretched on too long. "He could have anyone. I'm just an escort."

Leon still looked fierce, but his grip on Merlin's collar was loosening.

"Merlin," he said, his voice still grating with his temper. "You have to know by now, that you're not an escort to him anymore."

The words punched a sob from Merlin, nearly sending him back down to his knees in the snow, but this time when Leon caught him, Merlin held on.

"What can I do?" Merlin asked. "I don't know what else to do."

"Well for starters," Leon said, hoisting him back onto the stone walkway and ushering him towards the door. "You can come in out of this blizzard. It's cold as shit out here."

* * *

By the time Merlin had made it back upstairs to Arthur's bedroom, it was nearly four in the morning. He entered slowly, closed the door behind him with barely a click, but still, Arthur heard him.

"Merlin?" He sounded groggy.

"Yeah it's me," he whispered across the dark room as he approached the bed. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Arthur shook his head absently, eyes still closed when he reached out, brushing Merlin's sweater with the back of his hand. His eyes flew open, suddenly alert.

"Merlin, what happened? You're soaking wet."

Merlin smiled down at him, affectionate and a little sad. "I went outside for a bit. I couldn't sleep."

"Outside in this?" Arthur frowned, sitting up. "Are you alright?"

Merlin looked down at the bed. Shuddered to take in a breath.

"No," he whispered, alarmed that he'd finally said it out loud. "No, I'm not."

"Come here," Arthur said gently.

Merlin did. Despite the melting snow in his hair and his frozen eyelashes and his soaked sweater Merlin allowed Arthur to enfold him in his arms. He held on for a long time, waiting for the pressure of his old fears to restrict his lungs and make him bolt. He waited for the memories of Sigan to blacken this moment. To violate him again.

But they didn't. Arthur pressed him close, let Merlin hold on to him. They sat like that in silence, and it was just the push and pull of their own breathing for some minutes. And instead of that awful, bruising fear, Merlin felt safe. He closed his eyes.

Then Merlin pulled back, kissed Arthur deeply on the mouth. Savored the moment. Drew it out. Arthur let him take the lead, responding in kind, their kissing tender and unhurried. When finally Merlin broke the kiss, he pressed his face to Arthur's, as he had done the first night they'd spent together at Excalibur.

"I need to talk to you," he whispered.

Arthur brushed his damp curls off of his face with both of his strong hands.

"Okay," he whispered back.

"Okay." Merlin said.


	16. No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! This chapter got away from me, I'm afraid. It was by far the most difficult for me to write. I may go back and edit the ending...it feels abrupt to me. What do you think? I hope you enjoy it regardless, and everyone had a safe and healthy weekend 💋

* * *

Arthur insisted that Merlin put on some dry clothes. When they were both comfortable, Merlin leaned back against the massive headboard of Arthur's bed and closed his eyes.

"I've been getting anonymous text messages, with photos of us. For weeks."

Merlin could actually feel the change in Arthur's body, pressed so close to him. Every muscle tightened. The strain of his anger was palpable.

"They always come with a message. They always refer back to Sigan, somehow. I've given my cell phone to Gwaine and Leon. But..."

He trailed off, finally got the courage to look at Arthur. He was stunned into silence. Merlin had never seen Arthur's eyes ignite, the way they did now.

"Someone is threatening you?" He said, and his voice was somehow more intense than his gaze.

"I don't know," Merlin whispered. "Not directly. But it feels like a threat."

Merlin swallowed hard, and continued on, before Arthur could.

"Arthur, I'm worried all the time. For you, and Gwen...and everyone else. And it's so _unfair_ ," he hissed through his teeth, refusing to cry. "Because we haven't done anything to anyone to deserve this, have we?"

Arthur looked pained. "No, Merlin, of course not."

"I've tried to leave you, so many times," Merlin admitted quietly, looking at his hands. "But I couldn't do it."

Arthur tilted his head, his face like stone. Like sorrow. Merlin had to look away.

"I don't _want_ to do it."

He felt the bed dip. Merlin lifted his gaze to meet Arthur's, so close now he could feel Arthur's breath on his face. He looked like he was about to say something, but Merlin couldn't stop now, or he would never get through this. Gently, he pressed his fingertips against Arthur's parted lips. Said very quietly,

"Let me finish."

Arthur closed his eyes. Leaned in just a little, so that his forehead and Merlin's touched.

"If we don't stop this," Merlin said. "If we decide to go on and damn the consequences, Arthur...will I be enough?"

The last he said with a shaking breath. His throat was tight.

Arthur shifted, closed his hand over Merlin's fingers, and gently moved them from his lips.

"May I speak?" He said, softly.

Merlin nodded against Arthur's forehead, not trusting himself to do any more than that.

"When we began at Excalibur, you asked me why I had come there. Do you remember?"

Merlin breathed out a laugh, his lashes wet.

"How could I not? I shattered a picture frame and you still bought me dinner afterwards."

Arthur laughed. He had his free hand in Merlin's hair, his palm warm against the pale cheekbone. Outside the wind rattled the windows before dying down.

"I'm not lonely anymore, Merlin."

The words bloomed in the ache of his pulse, and he was still trying not to cry, and only half-succeeding. His voice was wet, and raw when he finally managed to speak.

"But will it be _enough_ , Arthur? Will it be enough if everything else comes falling down with it?"

_Tell me we can do this._

"It will be," Arthur said with finality.

_Tell me we can make this work._

"All the rest of it could never be enough, compared to you, Merlin."

Their foreheads were still resting against each other's, their hands touching, cheeks and throats and hair. Absently. Desperately.

_Tell me._

"I don't want you to pay me anymore," Merlin said suddenly, his cheeks wet and hot. "For the nights we spend together."

Arthur pulled back. Cupped Merlin's face in his hands. He kissed Merlin's high cheekbones. His forehead. His mouth. Merlin shuddered, and forced himself to face his last, greatest fear. To say it out loud.

"Will you still want those nights...if you aren't paying me?"

Arthur let out a breath as though he'd been punched.

"Oh Merlin," he said. "That was never the question on my mind."

Merlin had to find his breath before he could reply.

"What was, then?"

"Whether or not you would still want this, if I wasn't paying you."

Merlin looked up, and Arthur's eyes were wet now too and it was nearly too much, too much for one person to bear.

"I would have gladly paid for the rest of my life, Merlin, if it meant that I didn't have to lose you."

His words were whispered, and heavy with emotion and Merlin couldn't take it anymore. Suddenly it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and was inflating his chest. He pulled Arthur in, his fingers in Arthur's hair, and their lips met, wet cheeks and Merlin's always too cold nose and Arthur was taking him in, all of him, and there was something between the press of their lips now, something that had lifted itself from the shadows, fearless, and settled into the light.

* * *

Merlin stood by the edge of the bed with Arthur, slowly letting him go. Arthur tested the weight on his bad hip and hissed through his teeth, mutely shaking his head.

Merlin swept in, taking Arthur under his arm; his weight across Merlin's smaller shoulders. Arthur tipped his head back, breathed out through his nose.

"Thank you, Merlin," he said.

Merlin squeezed Arthur's wrist.

"We could just call Gwaine and Leon here. We don't have to go downstairs."

"I know," Arthur sighed. "I need to move."

Merlin nodded, and adjusted his posture, to make it easier for Arthur, who was shorter than he was. They made their way slowly to the door and out into the hall. Although they were inching along, Arthur appeared to be weathering it well. Out of the corner of his eye Merlin kept watch.

The stairs were the largest obstacle. Arthur grimaced as they made it to the first landing.

"How is it possible you don't have some kind of elevator in here?" Merlin huffed.

"In a Jacobean Manor? Please Merlin. Where would I put it?"

"I don't much care where you put it," he said agreeably.

Arthur laughed, his free hand taking the railing for the last few steps, Merlin taking his weight on the other side.

Gwaine was rounding the corner at a jog, having heard the noise, and slowed to a stop in order to watch the two of them with a slow smile spreading across his full mouth.

"Oy," Merlin said. "You could help."

Gwaine shrugged. "Seems fine to me."

Merlin eyed the muscled man as he and Arthur made it to the bottom of the stairs.

"Kitchen?" Gwaine said.

"Kitchen," Arthur agreed, a little out of breath.

For all that he'd been teasing Gwaine, Merlin was secretly glad that he didn't try to take Arthur from him as they entered the kitchen. They sat at the island, and Gwaine put some water on to boil.

Arthur eased himself onto one of the stools. Looking a little pale.

Absently, Merlin rubbed the back of his neck.

"Where's Leon?" Arthur said after a moment. "We need to talk."

Gwaine glanced at them over his shoulder, his eye catching Merlin's before he turned back at the kettle.

"He asked for some time. He's out hunting."

"For _what_?" Arthur asked. "It's still snowing."

Gwaine just waved a hand absently. "You know how he is."

"Merlin told me about the text messages. What were you able to find out?"

Merlin was a little surprised that Arthur didn't seem angry. There was a heat to his words but nothing accusatory. And Gwaine didn't even miss a beat. He brought the tea over, and sat down across from them.

"We think there's a connection between the man who came into Merlin's room at Excalibur, and the text messages."

"But they weren't the same person," Merlin blurted. Arthur laid a hand on his arm, silently asking him to wait.

"No," Gwaine agreed. We think this..." he reached into his back pocket, produced a folded paper with the photo he'd shown Merlin earlier, on it. "Cedric, is the one sending the messages."

He passed the paper to Arthur, who took his glasses off the collar of his shirt and put them on.

"Surname?"

Gwaine shook his head. "Still digging. You don't recognize him either?"

Arthur glanced up at his friend and then back down to the paper.

"No."

Gwaine nodded, and then continued.

"We've hit a lot of dead ends. Whoever Cedric is, he's got one of two things behind him."

"Money," Arthur said absently, still looking down at the photo. "Or a benefactor."

Gwaine passed Merlin a cup of tea. Placed another in front of Arthur.

"What do you want us to do?"

Arthur looked up.

"I'm tired of playing games. If it's Cedric or someone he's working for, he's obviously not in it for the money, or he'd have sold his photos already. So that means they...whoever they are, are out for blood."

Gwaine nodded. Merlin watched Arthur, drank in the intensity in his eyes. The set expression on his face. He felt bolstered by that look. It was a face he could belive in.

"Agreed," Gwaine said. "I've sent Elyan to check on Gwen. He'll be checking in within the hour. And I'm cross-referencing your known enemies with anyone also associated with Merlin, just in case we've missed something."

"Good," Arthur said. He passed the photo back to Gwaine. "I want to know if anything comes up, immediately."

Gwaine nodded. The whole exchange left Merlin a little light-headed.

"We'll have to change our security protocols," Gwaine added, almost as an after-thought. "We will need a plan in place, to account for Merlin."

Arthur leaned back in his chair.

"Bring Percival home," he said.

Gwaine showed his teeth when he grinned.

"It's been a long time since we were all under the same roof."

Arthur's answering grin was predatory. And in that moment Merlin could see Arthur the soldier, and he thought about his mother's painting, and for just a second he thought he could picture Arthur, dressed in steel and cloaked in red. He could almost taste the metal in the air, like pennies. Like blood.

And then it was gone, with Arthur's hand closing over his own, squeezing gently under the counter. Bringing him back, as he always had, from beneath the surface of that black lake. 


	17. Rebuilding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Leon head back to England without Arthur and Gwaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been commenting and leaving me wonderful thoughts to mull over while I continue on this story! You give me the energy and joy I need to continue on with this until the end. So here is a new chapter for you, with some special softness and fluff. Enjoy 💋

* * *

The next day, Merlin and Leon would prepare to leave after supper. To avoid any photos of them exiting the plane together, and to give Arthur more time off his hip, he and Gwaine would follow the next day, weather permitting. Merlin didn't want to leave him, but he didn't argue either. Arthur seemed to understand.

They spent the early afternoon sleeping, and Merlin woke briefly to the sound of a car in the drive. He thought it must be Leon, returning from his impromptu hunting trip. Then he fell back asleep, his cheek pressed against Arthur's bare chest.

He woke finally to a hot burn in the cradle of his hips. To Arthur's face pressed against his throat, nipping sharp bruises into his shoulders, his chest. He moaned, running his fingers through Arthur's bed rumpled hair, and then stopped himself with a groan.

"Arthur," he murmured. "Arthur, wait."

Merlin blinked sluggishly as Arthur lifted his head, looked down at him gently. Merlin kissed his mouth, slowly, and then, careful of Arthur's bad side, rolled them.

"Let me," he said a little breathlessly.

Arthur huffed, kissing Merlin again by way of an answer. He didn't argue. He knew Merlin could feel the tremor in his side. But it still smarted. And Merlin, exquisite, magic Merlin, knew it, and said nothing.

He deepened the kiss, drew his hands up the back of Merlin's sweater, traced his ribs and his spine and wings of his shoulder blades. Merlin moaned into his mouth and Arthur bit him for it, pulling at Merlin's full bottom lip. Relishing in the laugh Merlin gave him in response.

And then Merlin was undressing him, following the path of his discarded clothing with his teeth. His tongue. Arthur sucked in a breath when Merlin took him full into his mouth without warning, and felt his spine beginning to liquefy in the slow, molten rhythm of Merlin's tongue on his skin. It took him far too long to realize that Merlin was readying himself, he was so lost in the feeling of it all. Finding this unacceptable, Arthur took Merlin by his upper arms, surprising him, and hoisted him up to Arthur's chest.

He was careful not to rest his weight on Arthur's hips. Merlin stared down at Arthur, his mouth swollen and wet, and Arthur grinned at him.

"Kiss me," he said, low against Merlin's mouth. "And don't stop, until I stop you myself."

Merlin groaned, his eyes falling shut when he felt Arthur's hands trailing lazily up the backs of his long thighs. He arched when Arthur pressed in with his fingers. And did as he was told.

He kissed Arthur luxuriously, taking his time. He stuttered on a moan so lewd it surprised even him, when Arthur found that too-good spot inside of him, crooked his fingers and brushed it again. Merlin lost himself in kissing Arthur, marveling at how little he had occasion to savor it. He memorized the warmth of Arthur's lips, opened Arthur's mouth with his tongue and with great care, pulled a moan from the man beneath him that made Merlin's thighs tremble in anticipation. He wanted to be filled by Arthur, to be connected so deeply they would never again be separated.

But Arthur hadn't stopped him yet, and he was warm and hard with the thought that he was doing well for Arthur. It kept his mouth moving, and he drank deeply from every sound, every moan he drew from him, until finally, finally, Arthur was threading his strong hands into Merlin's hair, and pulling him back.

Merlin let out a breath through his nose, one of relief and gratitude, and sat up on his knees, his long hands pressed into Arthur's chest.

Arthur helped position him, his blue eyes following the line of Merlin's throat as he leaned his head back, sinking down fully onto Arthur's swollen length. They both made an involuntary noise, and Merlin waited, his nails digging into Arthur's skin as he relaxed. He wasn't pressed flush to Arthur's hips, his strong thighs taking the brunt of his weight. And Arthur's fingers were loosening on his sides, realizing that he didn't need to hold him, and Arthur moaned at the sensation. Quietly. Gratefully.

Merlin didn't feel the same urgent, intense pleasure he normally found in their love making, when he started to move. He wasn't taking Arthur as deeply as he would have to chase his own pleasure, instead using all of his strength to keep his weight from pinning Arthur with every thrust. This was a different kind of pleasure, one that came from hearing Arthur call his name, urge him faster, press his open palm to the small of Merlin's back, changing Merlin's angle with a guiding hand. Merlin felt it the moment that Arthur began to falter on their rhythm, and lowered his head between his shoulders, black curls swinging with every motion. He rolled his hips, panting against Arthur's open mouth, and let out a guttural moan when Arthur came, clutching at him, pressing Merlin's name into the space between them with a broken cry.

Merlin hovered over Arthur's body, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath. He was still hard, and his whole body thrummed with it as Arthur pressed his mouth to Merlin's collar bones. His shoulders.

"Up on your knees," Arthur breathed, making him shudder.

Arthur pulled himself below Merlin, as he did as he was told. His abdomen and thighs were burning, but the ache galvanized Merlin as he came up onto his knees. He took hold of the headboard as Arthur pulled him closer by the backs of his thighs.

When Arthur took him into his mouth, Merlin saw stars falling behind his eyes. He didn't try to keep himself quiet. He shook from the sensation of it, and felt the heat under his skin rapidly focus to a single point of white hot excess that could no longer be contained.

He threw his head back with Arthur's name on his lips as he came, unable to peel his fingers from Arthur's headboard, moaning quietly as he finished.

It took Merlin some time to slide back down to the bed on Arthur's good side, stretching out all his long limbs along Arthur's hard-muscled form beneath the sheets.

"How exceptional you are," Arthur said in his ear, stroking the backs of his shoulders and the nape of his neck. The shell of his ear.

Merlin thought of the fairy lights he'd loved as a child. Imagined they were coiled up in his chest, lighting him up from the inside out. He hummed pleasantly against Arthur's sweat damp skin, and did not wake again until it was nearly time to leave.

It was Arthur who was laying, half awake, his strong arms covering the man at his side, and breathing softly, sated and content and contemplative. He stroked Merlin's flush skin absently, thinking of wool socks, and the round table in Cavendish, and Merlin's coat in the closet beside his own.

* * *

Arthur and Gwaine saw them off at the door, Merlin having to borrow an overnight bag from Arthur to take his new clothes with him. He was in his jeans and sweater, and a blue turtleneck he'd found in Arthur's dresser when they'd finished showering together. It smelled like Arthur and Merlin loved it instantly.

Arthur had given him a knowing look as Merlin took it for himself, but otherwise made no comment.

Now he was placing his bags into the SUV with Leon's help, and ducking his chin into the collar of his wool coat against the cold. As Leon opened the door to the car for him, Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Arthur and Gwaine in the doorway. Offered a small wave. Arthur waved back. Gwaine smiled and gave him a nod.

Merlin did not go back up the steps to kiss Arthur goodbye one more time. They had said their goodbyes in every way possible already. But he still felt a twinge of disappointment in himself. Briefly he wished he had.

Leon was silent as he pulled out of the drive and headed for the airport. He hadn't spoken to Merlin since they'd had their row on the front lawn of the manor. Merlin struggled with something to say, feeling oppressed by the heavy silence between them.

"Leon?" He said quietly, but not without confidence.

Leon checked his rear view, then raised an eyebrow at Merlin. He didn't reply.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "You were right. I am afraid, and I didn't want to admit it." He sighed. Forced himself to continue.

"But not just about Arthur. About you, and Gwaine and Elyan, too. I was just as afraid of losing Arthur as I was afraid of losing...your friendship."

He finished lamely, feeling like he was back in grade school, stumbling over his words. Navigating the awkward silence that persisted, until Leon said,

"So we're friends, huh?"

Merlin turned to look at the other man. He was grinning to himself, watching the road ahead of them. And Merlin felt the tension between them scatter like spider silk.

"Well, it's not like I had much choice in the matter," Merlin said, taking a risk, his own smile growing. He leaned in to hug Leon, blinking up at him owlishly.

"Oh ho!" Leon barked, shoving his palm against Merlin's face. "I see how it is."

Merlin struggled, laughing as Leon messed up his hair, pushed him back into his own seat.

"Don't be an ass, Balinor," Leon said good-naturedly. "I told you, we aren't going anywhere."

"I know," Merlin said. "I'm just not...used to that."

Leon glanced at Merlin at that, but he was staring out the window, watching the Camlan countryside pass by. It was growing dark now, and everything seemed to glow in the lights reflected off the snow.

"Well get used to it," Leon huffed, unsure of what to say. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Merlin beamed. Leon dutifully ignored him, and the color that had slowly risen to his cheeks. But of course Merlin was too observant for that.

"Leon...are you _blushing?_ " He said, his grin becoming predatory.

"Watch it Balinor," Leon cut back, embarrassed. "I'll leave you on the side of the road, I swear I will."

"No you won't."

"Yes. I will."

"Will not."

"Merlin..."

"What?" His passenger said innocently, still grinning. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of you caring so much about me."

Leon's free arm lashed out, taking Merlin in a headlock as he turned down the airport drive.

"Laugh it up," he said over Merlin's struggling chuckles. But he was laughing too. "I'm going to throw you in a snowbank when we get out of the car."

Merlin thought he was joking.

He wasn't.


	18. The Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin goes to see Dr. Giaus about his doctorate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been commenting and giving me all your thoughts. I have the best readers and no one can tell me otherwise ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ! Just a few things before we get started.
> 
> In the last few chapters I made a mistake, calling the man in the photo "Cornelius" which was very confusing! The character was meant to be Cedric, and has since been updated. Sorry for that! 
> 
> I have a new story, for those of you who aren't aware, which are just outtakes and dropped storylines from the Room Number Seven universe. It's called The Same Truths, and you can find it under my works! 
> 
> One of my lovely readers has expressed interest in the Arthurian Easter Eggs I have living throughout this story, so I will endeavor to post them here, for your enjoyment. As a student of literature, and Arthurian legend, many of the things I am sliding into this story are not always from the BBC Merlin. The most obvious one so far is the character of Wyllt. This is the Welsh name for Merlin the Great, "Merridyn Wyllt". 
> 
> Sir Bedivere, is a character from one of the original texts, who was one of the last knights to survive the battle at Camlan Lake, where Mordred and Arthur slew one another. He was tasked with the leaving Arthur behind, to take the sword Excalibur back to the Lady of the Lake. 
> 
> Some say he made it. 
> 
> Some say he didn't. 
> 
> It's also worth noting that Bedivere was actually a character in the BBC Merlin...for approximately 3.5 seconds, before he was eaten by the Questing Beast. XD
> 
> Alinor, the name our creepy reporter gave to Merlin when he accosted him at Excalibur, was the name of a knight who once faced Arthur on the jousting field, and was slain. 
> 
> Now please enjoy the next installment of these two boys and their crazy love story 💋

* * *

When Leon opened the door of the Charger for him outside of his apartment, it was still dark outside, and Merlin was exhausted. He let Leon hand him his bag and blinking, a little groggy, said,

"Do you want to come up before you go?" If a little awkwardly.

"I'll walk you up," Leon said. "But I need to get back. You're not the only one who needs sleep."

He slapped Merlin on the back as they climbed the stairs, making Merlin stumble a little with a laugh.

"Where do I file a complaint about my security?" Merlin said, holding onto the railing for support. "He's trying to get me to fall up the stairs."

"Your security would be a little more sympathetic if he didn't have the bruises to prove you're not a wilting rose," Leon said agreeably.

"You're not still on about that are you?" Merlin groaned, taking out his keys. "Your head never even hit the mat!"

They were still bickering when Merlin finally fumbled the keys into his lock and opened the door. He nearly jumped a foot in the air when he looked up, coming face to face with Elyan's gentle gaze.

"Jesus!" Merlin snapped. Leon braced him on the shoulder with a laugh.

"Easy," Leon grinned. "Tall, dark and handsome here has been with Gwen since we called yesterday."

Merlin sighed in relief.

"How is she?" He asked, stepping past Elyan to remove his shoes. Leon held the door open, waiting patiently.

"She's sleeping. Nothing to report. Although I've staked out the spot I believe the pictures were being taken from. We'll keep an eye on it."

Merlin nodded, smiling at the two.

"Thanks."

Elyan nodded, clapping Merlin unexpectedly on the arm, and pulling up his scarf, stepped out into the cold air with Leon.

"You know how to reach us," Leon said, and then with a two fingered salute, shut the door behind them.

Merlin listened to the two men making their way down the steel staircase as he slid the bolt home in the doorknob and pulled the chain across the latch. He hung up his coat, feeling like he was moving in slow motion, and set his bag down in the hall. He was still in his jeans, Arthur's turtleneck and his new cable-knit sweater, rumpled now from days of wear and travel. He shuffled to Gwen's room, and pushed open the door.

Her room was far tidier than his, the big oak chest of drawers covered in vases of flowers and decorative plates filled with loose change and some stray jewelry. Doilies she inherited from her mother and grandmother. It was pitch black, but he knew where her bed was by heart, on the far wall where she could see out of her windows into the courtyard below, adjacent to her small closet. He found her curled up on her side, in the center of the bed, and unceremoniously slid in with her, under the covers.

She made a noise and turning over, made room for him.

"Merlin?" She whispered, still half asleep.

He laid his head on her pillow, the bridge of his nose bracketing her cheek. She smelled like linen and rosewater.

"I'm home," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I took so long."

She rolled over more fully, and wrapped his head in her arms. He closed his eyes. Laid his cheek on her chest and counted the beats of her heart in the stillness that followed.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said.

"You too," Merlin agreed.

They said nothing after that. They drifted off together, Merlin holding onto Gwen, her arms loose around his slender shoulders.

* * *

Merlin woke to Gwen running her knuckles down the side of his face. He blinked, still exhausted, and then closed his eyes again when he realized that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her bed, showered and ready for work.

"What time is it?" He mumbled.

"About half past noon, now. I'm about to get on the tube."

He groaned. Rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"No," she smiled. He could hear it in her words. "I'm glad you're back."

He started to sit up, still rubbing his eyes. Gwen ran a hand through his hair, straightening out his bangs.

"You need a hot shower," she said, scrunching up her nose. "Shall I grab some takeaways on my way home? We can have dinner on the couch and you can tell me all about your trip."

Her eyes sparkled. Merlin grinned, started to accept and then abruptly caught himself.

"Maybe later I can bring dessert instead?" He said. "I'm meeting Dr. Giaus for coffee."

Her eyebrows went up, but she was already smiling. Merlin blushed. Looked away.

"Don't look at me like that," he laughed. "It's just coffee."

"Merlin, that's amazing!" She threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so happy for you."

He squeezed her arm.

"Thanks Gwen."

"I'll see you afterwards then," she said, pulling herself up off the bed and straightening her wool skirt. "Remember to iron your shirt!" She called, leaving her room.

"Yes mom!" He yelled after her.

"And wear a tie!"

He rolled his eyes, chuckled quietly to himself and then flopped back on the bed. Wondered idly when Arthur and Gwaine would be back from Wales.

Then he pulled himself up. Gwen was right about one thing.

He needed a shower.

* * *

  
The rest of the day passed slowly for Merlin. He showered, pressed his shirt and sweater. Went over his notes. And then...nothing. He had hours left to wait, and his nerves began eating away at him.

He tried to work on the spreadsheets he'd started at Arthur's office in Camlan. But he was so distracted, he was worried he'd make a stupid mistake. Instead he made what felt like a thousand cups of tea. Washed his face _again_. Finally sat himself on the couch with his phone, debating to himself.

Even if he could get back into Warwick, what would happen once he was re-assimilated into the student body? How many people would know him? How many professors? Would it matter? 

It might.

Merlin was still sitting on the couch and staring out the window when he heard Gwen's key in the lock. His meeting with Dr. Giaus was fast approaching, and it made his heartbeat skip a rhythm to think about it. He'd written a text to cancel the meeting, but he couldn't seem to push send.

"What are you still doing in your sweats?"

Merlin couldn't look at Gwen. His face twisted involuntarily. Without preamble she plucked his phone out of his hand.

"Get dressed."

He blinked, glanced up at her. Gwen was looking at him, stone faced. One fist on her hip. Goosebumps rose over the backs of his arms.

"I know you're worried. But the person who is doing this to you wins if you don't get up, get dressed, and go see Dr. Giaus anyway."

He opened his mouth - he had a thousand protests for this - but Gwen's gaze hardened. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"Get dressed. Now."

He did.

He wore his designer jeans, and the grey sweater with the chambray button up. Plum tie tucked into his collar. His new suede boots. Gwen hummed her approval when he came back out, and he felt warm all over as she helped him into his wool coat.

"Very sharp. You're going to be perfect. Here's your phone back. Wallet?"

He nodded, then leaned in to kiss Gwen on the mouth.

"Thank you, Gwen."

She smiled, kissed his cheek for good luck and swatted him across the ass as he was leaving. He yelped with a laugh, and hurried down the stairs to the tube.

He was bouncing his foot all the way to Cross station.

When he came up from the tunnel the air was cold and grey, but London somehow still seemed colorful to him. He smiled into the collar of his coat, let the chill bite of the winter air soothe his nerves.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to find a message from Arthur.

> Good luck.

He smiled.

And rounded the corner into a wave of camera flashes.

"Mr. Balinor!"

He jerked back, his arm going up instinctively. Leon wasn't with him today, because he wasn't working. The coffee shop where he was meeting Dr. Giaus was over-run by reporters. He backed up and nearly knocked a man to the ground who was trying to cross the road.

"Mr. Balinor, is it true you spent the entire weekend with Arthur Pendragon?"

"What's he like in bed?"

"What does he pay for you?"

Merlin felt the whole world tunnel on one face, as he saw Dr. Giaus standing outside of the coffee shop, watching the flood of reporters and Merlin standing at the front of it all. He had a difficult expression on his face. Merlin felt sick.

"Mr. Balinor!"

It wasn't going to work. It was never meant to work. Even if he had the work experience to prove he could succeed in finishing his doctorate, he was a local sensation again. Warwick wasn't looking for this kind of trouble, and frankly, Merlin couldn't blame them. He would do Dr. Giaus the favor of not having to explain it to him, face to face.

He lowered his arms. Looked away from Giaus's face and then turned back to the tube.

Some of the reporters followed him into the train car, and that alarmed him. And then he realized that they were probably waiting to see if he was going to take a train to Arthur's Estate somehow.

He leaned his head back on the window. Closed his eyes and tried to ignore the questions. It was going to be a long ride. He wasn't planning to get off until they reached the end of the line.

* * *

He didn't make it home until late evening, his expression drawn and sad. He had lead the reporters who stuck with him on the train car on a tour of the King Cross lines until they gave up and got off. He hadn't spoken to anyone at all today, and had ignored any messages he'd gotten on his phone. He never called Leon or Gwaine to tell them what happened. It didn't seem at all like it mattered anymore.

So it was a strange sight to him, when he finally wandered into his apartment to find Gwen, Arthur, Gwaine and Leon all seated around his tiny living room. He shut the door immediately behind him, and just stared.

Gwen looked upset, Arthur just looked relieved. Gwaine and Leon were studying him as they came to their feet but their expressions were vastly neutral compared to the others.

"What were you thinking!" Gwen exploded, coming to her feet. "I've been calling you all day! No one knew where you were, what happened? How do you think we all felt, seeing you on the news like that?"

Merlin had opened his mouth to protest, and stopped cold at her words.

"On the news?" He said a little breathlessly.

"Yes, Merlin!" Gwen sniped. "There was a bit about the coffee house and the sea of reporters there today on the BBC. Arthur called when he couldn't get you on the phone. None of us knew what was going on!"

"You were pretty off the grid, mate," Leon cut in quietly.

"I was on the tube all day," Merlin snapped, suddenly angry and humiliated and not at all concerned about anyone else's worries. "And they still followed me onto the train, shouting questions down the length of the car, about how much Arthur pays for me a night!"

He threw his coat off, and stormed down the hall.

"Sorry I was a bit too preoccupied to get on the goddamned phone!"

He slammed the door, feeling like a child, and stood in the middle of his room, running his hands through his hair and trying not to cry.

There was a soft knock at his door. He almost told whoever it was to fuck off, but Arthur stepped into the room without waiting for an answer. He closed the door, and Merlin's gaze softened when he realized Arthur was limping.

"Arthur..."

"I'm fine Merlin. Better now, that I know you're okay."

Merlin's face crumpled. He collapsed down onto the bed.

"I'm so sorry," he said to the floor between his knees. "I never wanted any of this to happen. I just...want my life back."

Arthur stepped up to where he was sitting, cupped the back of Merlin's head in one of his strong hands. Merlin reached out without thinking. Pulled Arthur closer so he could press his face into Arthur's abdomen. Match the pace of his breathing with his own.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said again. "I should have called. I wasn't thinking."

"You don't have to be sorry, Merlin. This is my fault. I didn't realize how bad it was."

Merlin heaved a breath, said nothing because he didn't trust himself to speak.

"I have some thoughts," Arthur continued quietly. "If you'd like to hear them."

"Okay," Merlin breathed. "Come sit down with me. You're shaking."

Arthur huffed a little. Eased himself down on the bed beside Merlin, taking the weight of his injured leg.

"It looks worse than it is," he said. "I'm okay."

Merlin kissed him. It was a long, ardent gesture, because the day had been utter crap, and it needed to be done. Because Arthur was here in his room and that was all he needed at the end of the day.

When they parted, Arthur was breathing hard, his eyes soft. He kissed Merlin again, slower and gentler this time. Savoring the moment.

"I want to go to the press," Arthur said abruptly. "I want to tell them you're working for me."

Merlin felt a rushing in his ears. Heard the blood rising to his face. But Arthur soldiered on before he could reply.

"Let them speculate about the rest. Get me the figures I can take to my legal team. And I will hold a press conference. You're already on my payroll. Once we have a conclusion on my financials I can go to the press. Report your findings. Explain the nature of the investigation and why it needed to be done privately."

Merlin reeled. And then the logician in him started to crank the gears. It could work. It might just be crazy enough to work.

"Say I was working for you the whole time," he confirmed. Arthur smiled, a little predatorially.

"It isn't an untrue statement."

Merlin smiled back.

"And what happens after?"

Arthur shrugged. "After, you can do what you want. I could always use a gift like yours, Merlin, in my office. Or you can go back to work at Excalibur. Or you can go back to school."

Merlin blinked.

"Did you just offer me a job?"

"You already have a job at my office Merlin," Arthur laughed.

"But...indefinitely?"

Arthur studied him. "Yes. Indefinitely. If you want."

"Okay," he said. He said it quickly, before he could think it over. "Okay."

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"You're going to have to be more specific than that, love," he said around a smile. He was tracing absent patterns across the backs of Merlin's shoulders through his sweater. It made Merlin shiver.

"Yes, let's finish your financials. And go to the press, and make a statement. I'll quit my job at Excalibur. I'll work for you."

Arthur beamed.


	19. The Taste of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this chapter continues the scene from the previous chapter, enjoy a double update 💋

* * *

Merlin helped Arthur to his feet. Kissed him again, and then stepped out of the bedroom.

"This was risky," Merlin said as they came into the living room. "Now that we know someone was taking pictures of the apartment." He was pointedly ignoring Gwen's palable anger from the couch.

"Oh ho," Gwaine said, slapping his knees as he stood. "The apprentice thinks he's the master now!"

He grinned good naturedly, coming face to face with Merlin. He was perhaps the only person who actually _could_ tower over Merlin if he chose to do so. Merlin grinned back.

And then he finally turned to Gwen. He lowered himself to a crouch in front of her knees. Put his hands on her thighs.

She was furious.

"I'm so sorry, Gwen. I wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't." She said. "I was worried sick."

He didn't have to explain to anyone in the room, that Gwen was the one who had found him when Sigan attacked him. That she'd had to give testimony too. What he was sure none of them understood was that she still couldn't take many pictures of herself. Not on holiday with her dad, or trying on clothes with Merlin, or for her basically non-existant Instagram account.

It was the camera flash. It always brought back the memories. He barely noticed them anymore. But Gwen saw them in her nightmares. Seeing it on the news happening to Merlin wouldn't have made any difference.

"I'm safe Gwen," he said quietly. "I'm okay."

"I know," she said, her anger breaking around the edges. "Don't you ever do that again Merlin Emrys Balinor."

He winced a little at his full name. Then took her hands in his. They were curled into tight fists, and slowly he peeled open each of her fingers, running his hands over her palms until she was no longer tightening her grip.

"I'll make some tea," he said. She nodded, and her eyes were wet, but she didn't cry. He leaned in, paused to give her the opportunity to stop him, but she turned her head and kissed him on the cheek, just as he did for her.

When he stood to enter the kitchen, he could see the others had migrated there. It was amusing to Merlin, since his apartment was small and had basically no separate rooms. Still, he appreciated the gesture of privacy.

He stood for a minute in front of the electric kettle, and then pulled the stove top kettle out of the cabinet as well.

They were going to need more than one pot, he could already tell.

Leon was seated at the little kitchen table with Arthur, one leg stretched out, his elbow draped carelessly over the back of the chair. Arthur was also leaning back, but his arms were crossed, his chair pushed a little away from the table. Gwaine was leaning against the counter.

"Sorry for all the trouble," Merlin said, his back to them as he pulled down tins, looking for Gwen's favorite tea. It was another one of his mum's. Spicy and fragrant like chai, with a smooth chestnut aftertaste. When he was a boy he used to call it breakfast tea, because it smelled like waffles once it was steeped. But for some reason he could never remember it's actual name.

"No trouble," Gwaine said automatically. Merlin gave him a look over his shoulder. Leon snorted.

"It's part of the job description," Gwaine clarified. "So it's no trouble."

" _Wicked Good_!" Merlin called triumphantly, finding the purple tin in the cabinet. "That's the name!"

Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon all shared a look. Leon shrugged.

On the stove the kettle was beginning to rumble.

"Merlin," Arthur said gently.

He turned to look over his shoulder, setting mugs down on the counter as he did.

"I know this is a lot right now," Arthur sighed. "But we're going to have to make some very important changes, going forward. Specifically about security. I will maintain your employment status as freelance for now, so that we don't have to involve the board or HR. But we need to discuss next steps. We can do that now, or...?"

He trailed off, looking to Merlin for clarification. Merlin looked from Arthur to Gwaine, to Leon.

"I'd like to stay here with Gwen as much as possible, tonight," he said softly.

Arthur nodded.

"I understand. We'll just go over a few things over tea then," he said agreeably. "And then we'll balay out the windows and be out of your hair for the evening."

Merlin blinked. He had an absurd mental image of Gwaine, Leon, and Arthur, dressed in black fatigues and sliding down impossible lengths of black rope to make it down the side of his building. Then, the more he thought about it, the more he wasn't so sure it was _that_ absurd.

Arthur snorted.

"Really, Merlin?" He teased. Gwaine barked out a laugh.

Merlin blushed.

The kettle whistling startled them all. Merlin fumbled to lift it from the stove as Leon leaned back, a hand on his forehead.

"Good Christ we're a bunch of jumpy motherfuckers."

Gwaine punched him on the shoulder as Gwen came in at the smell of the tea. She reached into the cabinet and began setting out a plate of biscuits.

"Ow! We're all adults here!" He protested.

"No need to be rude about it," Gwaine said with a grin.

Arthur stood, and pulled out a chair for Gwen, which she sat in with a soft smile at him. Arthur gestured for Gwaine to sit also as Merlin brought over the tea.

"Gwaine has put together a new security protocol for us. Let's go over that now, and we'll talk specifics later. Agreed?"

They all nodded. Gwaine produced a tablet and opened a file on the screen.

"Merlin will need access to your files in Camlan for the foreseeable future, so we've set up a secured computer he can work from at the manor in Cavendish. These are the passwords," he said, turning the tablet to Merlin, who took it, and scanned the information slowly, three times.

Gwaine nodded, taking back the tablet.

"We will set up an hourly window for you to arrive and leave from Cavendish, just like any normal office job. Leon will escort you, as he has been, and will remain on duty at the manor while you're present. If you need to visit the Estate, or the office park in Camlan, we will need at least 14 hours notice to run a surveillance detection route and clear the way for you to arrive."

Merlin felt a little light-headed, sipping his tea as he listened. Gwen looked pensive.

"It sounds more ominous than it is," Arthur said. "But Gwaine has recommended we tighten our protocols until we find out who's been messaging you."

"Especially since," Leon said. "No one knew you were meeting Giaus today, but those reporters had to have gotten the tip from somewhere."

Merlin started at that. It hadn't even crossed his mind.

"I..." Merlin stopped abruptly. Then forced himself to go on. "I might be able to help with that."

They all raised their eyebrows at him. It made him cut his gaze back down to his mug, cupped between his hands.

"It's a long shot, I don't know if she'll have any information for you. But I have a contact in the media. She used to warn me, when things were getting bad...when things like this were happening before. I haven't spoken to her in years. But I still remember her number. Maybe she can tell you where the tip came from."

Gwaine clapped him on the back.

"That's great, Merlin. Just write it down here, and I'll reach out to her as a friend. If we can get some direction on this, the sooner we can put it behind us."

He slid the tablet and a stylus to Merlin, who scribbled down a few words and a number.

> Freya Bastet, Reporter, London.

Gwaine took the tablet. Leon was pouring himself more tea.

"From here on out we're just buying time until you can finish your analysis of Arthur's financial records," he said.

"We can't go to the press until we have a definitive answer, one way or another," Arthur added. "Otherwise it will look like we're hedging our bets. And we still don't know what this Cedric wants, since he could have blown the whole thing up whenever he pleased."

Merlin ran a hand through his hair. Gwen blew out a breath.

"Is Cedric in Ireland?" She asked, speaking up for the first time. Arthur looked up at her, and then turned to his security.

Gwaine nodded.

"As far as we can tell, he's in Dungannon."

Merlin's head came up. He looked pained.

"What is it?" Arthur prompted, leaning in a little across the table. Leon frowned.

"Dungannon is where I went to school," Merlin said around the lump in his throat. "It's only thirty minutes from my mum's home in Armagh."

Leon ran a hand over his face.

"Is there anything in Dungannon he could be trying to dig up?"

Merlin shook his head slowly. "I was at the college in Dungannon when...I don't know," he looked at Gwen. "Eleven?"

She nodded. "Eleven sounds right."

Merlin shrugged. "I was just a kid. I can't think of anything he could find there."

"Note to self," Leon said, trying to lighten the mood. "Find more genius clients."

Merlin snorted into his tea.

Arthur laughed.

"I ask because we know someone in Ireland who might be able to help," Gwen said, putting her hand on Merlin's arm.

They all looked at Gwen with interest. Even Merlin. He looked down at the hand on his arm, and then back up to her face when abruptly, he understood.

"No, Gwen," he said. "You don't have to do that."

She smiled at him sadly. "Of course I do."

Gwaine looked at Arthur and Leon with a raised eyebrow. Both of them shook their heads. They had no idea.

Gwen opened her hand, and waited patiently for Gwaine to give her the tablet and the stylus.

"He's a private investigator in Belfast," she explained as she wrote. "He's familiar with the area, and Merlin's case."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow as she handed the tablet back to him.

On the white screen in her neat handwriting was a name, and contact information.

> Lancelot DuLac, P.I., Belfast.

"Tell him I sent you," she said.

* * *

Gwaine had left to do a quick check of the area, as Arthur and Leon were preparing to leave. But Arthur had one eye on Merlin, who had looked conflicted ever since Gwen had offered to give them Lancelot's information.

Buttoning up his coat, Arthur stepped back into the little kitchen, where Merlin was sitting with Gwen. When she looked up to see him enter, she stood, and as she passed him paused to press her hand against his chest, as she had done the first time he'd entered the little apartment in Brixton.

He closed his hand over hers briefly. They said nothing as she left to join Leon on the couch.

Merlin glanced up at him, and then back down at his now cold tea.

Arthur smiled sadly.

"I have my own private investigators. I don't have to involve him," he said without preamble.

"It would help though," Merlin countered. "Since he was there."

Arthur said nothing.

"Lance is the best man I have ever known," Merlin said, glancing up with a small smile. "Present company excluded."

Arthur snorted.

"What happened with Sigan ruined everything for him," Merlin continued somberly. "I just don't want to be the reason he has to face it again."

Arthur considered this. Watched Merlin for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

"I think," Arthur said slowly. "That if he's half the man you think he is, he'll be glad to help. And it won't trouble him at all. But if for some reason he won't respond to Gwaine, we won't push him. We'll leave it at that."

Merlin turned a grateful smile up at Arthur.

"I want you to come to the Estate tomorrow, if you're up for it. Leon will give you the details."

Merlin felt warm all over.

"Okay," he breathed.

"Dress like you're coming into the office," Arthur said with a grin. "From now on when you come to the Estate, and the manor in Cavendish, do try to look like you're coming to work." 

Merlin laughed, running a hand over his eyes. 

"Your work?" He said impishly. "Or my work?"

Arthur's smile became something sharp and full of dark promises.

"Come here so I can kiss you," Merlin said quietly, when the moment had passed.

Arthur leaned down indulgently over the table, his gloved hand on Merlin's arm.

Merlin took a moment to look into Arthur's eyes, memorizing the blue, like the sea after a storm, when the sun's come up and the clouds are receding into blooming white once again. They kissed, and Merlin felt that same sun coming up inside of him.

Arthur smiled against his lips.

Merlin imagined it tasted like gold.


	20. Happiness Is Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin meets Arthur at the Pendragon Estate. (As some of you noticed, I originally had this story slated for 20 chapters. But not to worry! We aren't finished yet! This story now has an unknown number of chapters 🤣 I hope you don't mind!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait to post this chapter but I loved it so much I just couldn't possibly keep it to myself any longer. Finally, finally, some good things for Arthur and Merlin to celebrate (oh and they will celebrate next chapter, don't you worry). And some old friends join the cast! Please enjoy this absolutely disgustingly fluffy chapter to carry you into a wonderful weekend. 💋

* * *

Leon picked Merlin up from his apartment the next morning, at eleven. He was dressed in his blue trousers and white button down. His silver grey tie. Today he wore his oxfords, even though there was still snow on the ground and it would have been better to wear his waterproofs. But Arthur had said to dress like he was coming into the office, so that's what Merlin did. Leon opened the door for him and he slid into the warm cab of the Charger, his nose still low in the collar of his wool coat. He thought to himself he would need a new pair of gloves. His fingers were cold just from the walk down the stairs to the road.

When they started up the road, Merlin yawned unexpectedly.

"Sharpen up, Balinor," Leon said, before reaching into the side panel of his car and producing a hot cup of coffee, handing it to Merlin.

Merlin pulled off one of his gloves with his teeth before taking the paper cup in both hands with a pleased sigh.

"Can I get you a raise?" He said, opening the top of the cup, letting the steam rise. God it was heavenly. "I'm going to get you a raise."

Leon barked out a laugh. "No need," he said. "But I'll take some of your mum's tea, for Christmas."

"Done," Merlin said, sipping the coffee slowly.

"Why the estate today?" Merlin said after the comfortable silence had stretched. "Gwaine made it sound like I would be working out of Cavendish."

"You will be," Leon agreed, stopping at a red light. "But we still have some things to go over, and we need to talk about how we're going to start the process of resigning from Excalibur, you and I. And Arthur wants to talk to you about your doctorate."

"Ah," Merlin said, pausing to sip his coffee again.

Leon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"You still want to, right?"

Merlin sighed. Put the top back on his coffee and lowered it carefully to his lap.

"I do, I just don't think it's realistic to do it here, anymore."

Leon frowned, but said nothing.

They continued on like that, both of them thinking in the small space, Jeff Buckley on the radio.

When they pulled into the impressive drive of the Pendragon Estate, Merlin felt his shoulders relax just a little bit. The wide oak trees and the solid white stone gave him a sense of fond nostalgia he couldn't exactly put his finger on. He tried to imagine what the estate must have looked like when it was a castle, surrounded by battlements and crenellated watchtowers. For some reason, he imagined red capes and golden dragons, and the feeling of running through the trees, mossy overgrown rocks and someone calling out to him, laughing,

_**Mer** lin!_

Leon was staring at him from outside the door where he'd been holding it open in the cold. Merlin blinked. Fumbled for his seat belt.

"Sorry," he said. "Lost in thought."

He pulled himself free of the Charger with his messenger bag and his coffee, sheepishly. Leon smirked.

"Something good, I hope."

"I think so," he said thoughtfully. As they approached the massive front entryway, Merlin said,

"Leon, do you ever get the feeling like..."

Leon paused, turning the key in the Estate door, and easing it open for Merlin.

"Like you knew Arthur before you met him?"

Leon tilted his head, following Merlin inside, out of the chill grey morning.

"Like...deja vu?" He said.

"Maybe," Merlin replied, unsure himself. "It's nothing, I'm probably just imagining things."

"Nah," Leon said, as if it didn't matter. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Arthur has that way about him. Like he's been around longer than he has, and you must have met him before you just can't put your finger on where, or when."

Merlin gave Leon an appraising look, smiling a little.

"Just something about him, huh?"

"Ah don't give me that," Leon said, leading Merlin down one of the long corridors to the offices on the first floor. "You know what I mean. Now finish your coffee."

Merlin chuckled, sipped from his cup, momentarily contemplative once again. He did know what Leon meant. It was comforting, in a way.

When they entered the office, Gwaine was waiting for them. And there was another man in the office with him. Merlin blinked. He was a towering figure, broad shouldered and taller even than Gwaine, his shaved head and sharp eyes gave Merlin the impression of a hunting bird. An eagle, sizing up it's next kill.

He had to force himself to swallow his remaining sip of coffee, still on his tongue, nearly forgotten.

"Morning Merlin!" Gwaine said cheerfully. "This is Percival."

The name caught on a memory when Percival turned full to face him, revealing one of his arms in a heavy velcro sling, keeping it tight to his chest. He held out his good hand. Merlin took it.

"Nice to meet you," Merlin said, although he wasn't entirely sure if it was a statement or a question. Percival was looking him up and down, his gaze hard. He gave a grunt in response, and then turned back to Gwaine.

"I'll start the rounds," he said.

Then with a nod to Merlin and Leon, he headed back out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

Merlin glanced at the other two men.

"Cheerful fellow," he said. Leon snorted.

"Percival had a hard trip back from Canada," Gwaine said around a tight smile. "He's good people."

"I believe it," Merlin said seriously. "I was only teasing."

"Well!" Leon said, clapping his hands. "Let's not keep the boss waiting. You can leave your coat and things here. Bring your laptop, we're just going a few doors down."

Merlin nodded, shucked out of his coat and gloves. Ran a hand through his bangs and took up his messenger bag with a wave to Gwaine.

"Good luck!" The big man called as the door shut. Merlin barely had time to register the comment, before Leon knocked on one of the doors further down the hall, and when it opened, came face to face with Arthur in a white button down and a red tie, seated at a small conference table.

Sitting across from Dr. Giaus Ealdor.

* * *

Merlin was aware of a momentary rushing in his ears. Leon was suddenly very formal, standing by the door and waiting for him to enter, not looking at him. Arthur and Giaus were standing up now, and seeing them move made him take a step into the room reflexively.

"Merlin," Arthur said with a smile. "Come in."

He did, but he couldn't seem to say anything. All of his words were jumbled up in his head with a flurry of emotion. And then Dr. Giaus came around the table.

"Merlin, my boy," he said, and he was just as Merlin remembered him. Warm, and kind, and honest eyes. His face was seamed, perhaps a little more around the eyes since the last time they'd seen each other. But his white hair, still shoulder length, and his brown suit coat, the one with the leather elbow patches, were ever the same.

When Giaus put his hands on Merlin's shoulders, once his smile reached his eyes, Merlin couldn't stop himself. He pulled the old man into a hug, letting out a relieved, happy laugh.

"Giaus!" He said, because he could think of nothing else.

Giaus laughed, patting Merlin on the back with his broad, ink stained hands.

"It's good to see you too," the older man chuckled into Merlin's shirt. "Good God, you get taller every time I see you," he said, finally extricating himself.

Merlin was still smiling. He couldn't seem to stop. He had been so afraid of what he would see when Giaus looked at him. But there had been no judgement or disdain there. Only those warm, honest eyes that Merlin remembered from his lectures at Warwick. He was so blissfully relieved, he'd nearly forgotten that Arthur was in the room with them.

Giaus was heading back around the table, his hand on Merlin's back as he went.

"Come, sit down," Giaus was saying. "Join us."

Merlin did, pulling out the chair beside Giaus, across from Arthur, who was beaming. Merlin grinned back.

"You clean up nice," Giaus was saying as he seated himself, tugging Merlin down by his tie. Merlin gave a comical noise in surprise, thumping down into the seat, nearly dropping his bag in the process.

Merlin righted himself, blushing when he realized Arthur had turned away to pour himself a glass of water. He was hiding a laugh, Merlin could feel it from across the table, the prat.

But he couldn't stop smiling, all the same.

"Now, tell me how you've been," Giaus said. "Spare no details, let's get them all out of the way now so we can talk about the important stuff."

He was taking a set of small reading glasses out from his jacket pocket, and a notebook, and a pen.

Merlin let out a breath through his nose.

"Well...I've been working here in London for a few years, and..." he trailed off, suddenly tongue tied. He refused to look at Arthur. Gaius was looking at him over the rims of his spectacles.

"Yes. I recall reading about your work in the papers again this year."

The comment cut Merlin in half. He swallowed hard.

"I never made my work a secret from you," Merlin found it in him to say.

"No," Gaius said with a serious look. "So no need to start now."

Merlin nodded. Suddenly found his voice.

He told Giaus about how he'd come to London after Sigan. How he had done nothing to further his studies for four years. Until he'd met Arthur. He explained about how he'd examined Arthur's financial records. How he'd uncovered a problem, and was in the process of working through it. How his other profession had led the press to believe he was Arthur's escort. How Arthur had given him a chance anyway.

He found it surprisingly easy to explain the situation in these terms. They weren't untrue. And across the table Arthur waited patiently, listening, his finger on his lips. A small smile beneath it. It gave Merlin the courage to finish.

About how he wasn't happy, working at Excalibur anymore. How he wanted to finish his studies. How the work he'd been doing for Arthur made him realize how much he loved it. How much he still wanted it.

Gaius had been taking notes. But at the end he was merely watching Merlin, a small smile on his weathered face.

"Just as passionate as I remember you being," Gaius said. "Tell me about what you've discovered, within confidentiality agreements. Tell me how you found the problem."

Merlin looked at Arthur, who nodded. While Merlin was setting up his laptop, Arthur spoke for the first time.

"I first suspected something was wrong when I lost a renewal contract to a competitor on a deal in which my company was the incumbent," Arthur said. "I had been reviewing the numbers, and frequently kept pages of my financial reports in my suit jacket."

Arthur produced two pages of a financial report from a folder he had on the table in front of him. Merlin recognized the pages. They were crinkled and folded up. The exact same pages Arthur had brought to Excalibur.

Gaius took the pages. Looked them over with a serious noise of understanding, from the back of his throat.

"Merlin looked these over and wrote the equation on the back for me."

Gaius flipped the pages. Read the equation over.

"Afterwards I gave him access to a larger number of my most recent transactions. And then I formally hired him through my offices in Camlan."

"Wales?" Gaius said, looking up.

Arthur was smooth, and Merlin was grateful.

"I was concerned about security regarding this matter. If Merlin is right, someone is trying very hard to take my company for all it's worth."

Gaius lifted his eyebrows.

"I see. And you think he is right?"

Arthur smiled, but he didn't answer. He gestured instead to Merlin, who was waiting patiently with his laptop open.

Merlin showed Gaius the spreadsheets he'd been working on. Explained his work as he went.

"Why only two years?" Gaius was saying, fully engrossed now. "Why not five, ten?"

Merlin hesitated. Noticing, Gaius paused to look at him.

"I..." Merlin started slowly. Did not look at Arthur when he responded. "I suspected that the transactional history changed when Uther Pendragon's health was on the decline. When it was clear that Arthur would be assuming control of the company."

Gaius nodded, pushed his glasses up onto his head.

"Yes, that does make sense. But you'll want to confirm it."

Merlin nodded, still not looking at Arthur. He hadn't had a chance to prepare him for his suspicions, hoping he would have more time to explain when he had the data to back it up.

"I have access to the last ten years of transaction history."

"Good, good," Gaius said, seemingly oblivious to Merlin's discomfort. "I like this equation you're using. Is this one of yours?"

Merlin nodded, a little shy, all of a sudden.

"It was hurried," he started to explain.

Gaius snorted.

"Hurried for you is not the same as it is for the rest of us, Merlin. It's quite elegant. But if I may make a suggestion?"

Merlin nodded eagerly, making both Arthur and Gaius laugh.

Merlin was relieved to hear the sound from Arthur. He looked up at him, a grateful smile in his eyes. Arthur shooed him discreetly with his hand. Merlin turned back to Gaius, who was rewriting his equation. But there were subtle changes. Merlin followed them with a growing excitement.

Gaius handed him the paper, capping his pen as he did. Merlin read the changes over.

"Of course," he murmured, taking out his own pen. He started filling in numbers from memory, bent over the paper, scratching in the silence, completely oblivious to the others in the room.

"He was like this at Uni?" Arthur said conversationally.

"Worse," Gaius grinned, leaning back in his chair with his hands on his stomach.

"I can hear you," Merlin said. But his voice was distant. His pen never slowed.

Gaius gave Arthur a look, eyebrows raised as if proving a point. Mouthed, " _Like a pitbull,_ " across the table at the young business tycoon.

"I heard _that_ as well," Merlin said without looking up from the paper.

Gaius laughed deeply. Arthur joined him.

"What kind of hours are being put into this?" Gaius asked, addressing Arthur.

"We have been negotiating a formal hourly schedule," Arthur replied. "But he has put in a significant amount of time on the matter since I entered him into payroll last week."

Gaius nodded.

"And you're satisfied with the work?"

"Very," Arthur said, seriously. "He's quick and decisive with his conclusions. And he has yet to make me feel like a fool when asking him to explain further."

Gaius smiled fondly at Merlin, who was still writing.

"I see," he said.

Merlin was suddenly handing him the paper back. Gaius took his reading glasses off of his head, placed them back on his nose.

"Good Merlin," he said. "This is very good."

Merlin beamed.

"Alright," Gaius said with a smile. "Here's what I'm willing to do. This is your only reference, I'm assuming?"

Merlin nodded.

"It's a powerful one. But you've only been at this for a few weeks. So I'll touch base with you, let's say...biweekly. You can consider this our first check-in. And we'll go over what you're working on within the parameters of your confidentiality agreement with Mr. Pendragon. And when you've reached your final conclusions, you'll write me a report with examples. I think no less than twenty-five pages should be fair?"

Merlin nodded quickly.

"Yes, I can do that."

"Show me you can still document your findings. Explain your conclusions succinctly, and if I am satisfied, I will recommend your application be reviewed."

Merlin felt his heartbeat in his throat. He was miles high.

"Really?" He breathed.

"Yes, really. But Merlin," Gaius said seriously, placing his big hand on Merlin's slender arm. "I don't need to tell you this will be an uphill battle if your name continues to appear in the tabloids."

Merlin nodded. "I'm resigning," he said impulsively.

"From Excalibur?" Gaius clarified.

"Yes," Merlin said. "This week."

Arthur cleared his throat from across the table. Both Gaius and Merlin looked up.

"Merlin accepted a full-time position in my firm here in London, just yesterday. No agreements have been signed yet, so I haven't made any announcements. You understand?" He said gently to Gaius.

The older man nodded.

"I won't say a word," he said, pretending to lock his lips with an imaginary key.

"Once I've made my final decision," Gaius added. "Merlin would greatly benefit from a formal letter of recommendation."

"You'll have it," Arthur said with conviction. Merlin's heart felt three sizes too big for him.

Arthur stood. Gaius and Merlin stood with him.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice today," Arthur said, opening the door for them. "I've arranged lunch in the dining room. Gaius will you join us?"

Gaius put his arm in Merlin's as they exited the conference room, glasses still on his head, his free hand behind his back.

"It would be my great pleasure, Mr. Pendragon," he said.

"Please," Arthur said, leading them down the hall. "Call me Arthur."

* * *

When Gaius had been shown out by Gwaine, and lunch was finished, Merlin and Arthur stood in the entryway of the estate in silence. Arthur glanced at him, and Merlin felt all of his nervous, happy energy begin boiling under his skin again. His smile was beginning to take his ears. Arthur was smiling now too. And Merlin couldn't contain it any longer. He thought he would fly apart if he tried.

He threw himself at Arthur, who caught him with a startled laugh as Merlin wrapped all his long limbs around Arthur, squeezing his affection and joy into Arthur's shoulders, his neck, his ribs.

"You...you giant prat!" He gasped, laughing breathlessly.

Arthur was trying to fend him off, but not really, hoisting Merlin higher up into his arms, looking up at him with starlight in his blue eyes.

"I knew you could do it," Arthur said reverently. "You were brilliant Merlin. Exceptional."

Pressing Arthur's face between his hands, Merlin kissed him, legs wrapped around Arthur's hips, the two of them ridiculous in their ties and trousers, holding onto each other for dear life with hands and mouths and laughs.

"Thank you," Merlin whispered against Arthur's mouth. "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything, Merlin," Arthur said. "All I did was make a call."

"Good Lord they're cute," a voice from behind them said, scaring the absolute shit out of Merlin. "Are they always this cute?"

He turned, still in Arthur's arms, now clinging there in shock, to find Percival, Gwaine and Leon, watching them from the other end of the entryway.

"Pretty much," Gwaine said.

"You get used to it," Leon added, chewing thoughtfully on a toothpick.

Merlin let himself down from Arthur's arms slowly, fairly certain he was beet red beneath the collar of his white shirt. Arthur was grinning. Clearing his throat self-consciously, Merlin straightened his shirt, grateful for Arthur's hand, a steady weight on his back.

"Percy," Arthur said. "Good to see you up. You've met Merlin?"

"We've met," the serious man agreed. Arthur's grin widened.

"Good. Where's Elyan?"

"Chasing a lead down for you. He'll be back later this week."

Arthur turned to Merlin. "I have some things to take care of. You can work from the conference room today instead of Cavendish. I'll come down later, if that works for you?"

Merlin nodded, still embarrassed.

"Yeah, that's good for me."

"Good, I'll see you this evening then. Percival, Gwaine, let's talk."

The big man nodded, and as he passed Merlin alongside Gwaine, Merlin was surprised when Percival gave him a grin and a thumbs up. 

Merlin blushed harder, if possible.

"What?" Leon said as Merlin and he walked down the hall, back toward the offices.

"Shut up," Merlin hissed.

Leon rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"I'm mortified!" Merlin said.

"Why?" Leon asked him incredulously. "You just made a friend for life!"

Merlin frowned, confused. "Who? Not Percival?"

"Of course Percival," Leon said, as if it should be obvious. "He's a big fan."

"A big fan!" Merlin crowed. "I stuttered around a _'how do you do'_ and then he saw me jump your employer in a very unprofessional way in full view of the bay windows of the estate!"

"Yeah, don't do that again," Leon laughed, opening the door to the conference room for him. "You nearly gave Gwaine a heart attack. At least wait until you're in the hallway next time."

"Noted. That still doesn't explain what you mean."

Leon grinned, leaning back on the conference table, folding his arms across his chest.

"Long story short? Arthur saved Percival's life on our last deployment. He'd do anything for Arthur. We all would. And like the rest of us, Percival saw how happy you make Arthur. Simple as that."

Merlin wondered if it was possible to get a fever from blushing so much.

Leon laughed.

"Don't be embarrassed."

"Easy for you to say," Merlin muttered.

"Alright, genius, get to work. There's whiteboard markers, paper and office supplies in the cabinets. Tea on the sideboard. Call if you need anything."

Merlin nodded. He turned to look at the open conference room. Listened to Leon closing the door behind him. Merlin felt...invigorated.

He had work to do.


	21. Before Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin convinces Arthur to let him stay at the Estate for some extracurricular activities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your comments are so invigorating! Thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to write to me. It really does give me a tremendous desire to continue to write for you, even on the days when it seems impossible. You're all such a joy. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. 
> 
> Please check my additional works for a new project I will need your help with. A gift for all you lovely readers, who have helped me find my writing voice once again. 💋

* * *

Arthur wasn't entirely prepared for what he was looking at, when he entered the conference room to fetch Merlin later that evening. So he just stood in the doorway, his head cocked, taking it in. He was not surprised that he hadn't heard from his newest financial advisor since they'd parted ways after lunch. After witnessing Merlin work without any regard for clock on the wall in Camlan, he was also not surprised to find him still working, without a sign of slowing down, although it was nearly half past eight now. Leon told him he didn't think Merlin had left the conference room once since he'd started. What _did_ surprise him, perplex him really, was that Merlin wasn't using the whiteboard walls as he had done in Wales.

The conference room table had been covered end to end in two enormous sheets of printer paper, the kind they sold in reams for printing posters. Arthur bent sideways a little at the waist, confirming his suspicions. Two massive rolls of paper were trailing along the floor, forgotten. And Merlin was on his hands and knees on top of the table, in his socks, tie tossed carelessly over one of the conference chairs, writing furiously across the paper.

Arthur watched him for a moment longer. Merlins tousled black curls and the concentration in his glacial blue eyes. The soft dip of his clavicle just below his throat where the buttons of his shirt had been undone. The way he continued writing, completely engrossed, the black marker in his hands creaking across the thick paper. He watched until the marker ran out a few minutes later and Merlin sat back on his heels tossing the empty writing utensil into the bin across the room, before reaching into his back pocket, to produce another marker. He put it in his teeth, but didn't immediately uncap it, as Arthur expected he would. Instead he placed his pointer finger further up the page, and began reviewing what he'd written so far.

And then, surprising him again, Merlin took the marker from his mouth briefly to say.

"You're staring." He was smiling, but not looking at Arthur.

Arthur shrugged, leaning back against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's a nice view."

Merlin snorted, finally looking up from his work. "Almost done."

"Take your time," Arthur said, and meant it.

He could watch Merlin work all day. Thoughtfully, maybe even a little sadly, Arthur wondered what it must be like, to know exactly what your talents were. How to use them. To enjoy doing it. He envied Merlin whenever he saw him like this. Full of an endless curiosity. Driven by passion. Arthur couldn't think of a single thing he had ever undertaken in his life that had made him feel the way Merlin looked now. He wondered idly if he ever would.

Arthur pulled himself up from where he was leaning against the door, when the creaking of Merlin's marker slowed and finally stopped. Merlin sighed, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up. He was tapping the marker on his knee as he looked over his work. And then, with some difficulty, finally peeled his eyes away.

"Why the paper this time?" Arthur said, genuinely curious. Merlin looked around himself, as if just realizing he was on top of a massive ream of paper, haphazardly taped to the surface of a conference table.

"Oh...well," he laughed sheepishly, running his free hand through the back of his hair. "I can't take the walls with me, when I go to Cavendish. But I can roll this up."

He was still tapping the end of the marker on his knee. It was a steady rhythm. A four count.

Arthur laughed.

"Clever," he said. Merlin flashed him a radiant smile.

"I do what I can," he said.

"Well let's get those reams back to Gwaine's office," Arthur said, knowing exactly where they were pilfered from. "If he can't find them the next time he needs to print a map he'll eat me alive."

Merlin laughed, swinging his legs off the table, careful of the laptop, and hopped down.

"Whoops," he said. But it didn't sound like he was particularly sorry.

Merlin put his shoes back on. Rolled up his tie. And he and Arthur began picking up the various items in the room.

"Have you eaten since lunch?" Arthur asked as they rolled up the paper on the table. Merlin held it while Arthur secured it for him with rubber bands.

"Just tea," Merlin admitted. "But I'm not really hungry."

Arthur smirked. "You never seem to be, once you finish working."

"Maybe I'm just in the mood for something else," Merlin said.

Arthur felt his skin prickling pleasantly at the suggestion. But he checked his watch, nevertheless. Nine.

"Gwaine explained the new rules when you're here to work?" Arthur prompted.

Merlin nodded, packing up his laptop.

"No overnights."

"If anyone gets wind of you coming and going from here, overnights will be hard to explain."

" _Well_ ," Merlin said, drawing the word out suggestively. "It isn't midnight."

Arthur felt a smile creeping over his face, despite himself.

"No, it's not."

"Then technically, I haven't spent the night yet, right?"

"That sounds right to me," Arthur said.

Finally, Merlin lifted his gaze to Arthur's, and Arthur was sure he felt the electricity he saw there.

"What are you in the mood for, Emrys?" Arthur said, hungry, and low.

Merlin moaned.

* * *

When Arthur lifted Merlin by the suspension rope above his bed, Merlin was already hard. Arthur checked the hip harness. Nothing complicated tonight. Just a half suspension, Merlin's knees bent beneath his arched body, still touching the mattress, his wrists bound in easy figure-eight loops, and secured to the headboard.

"You were so good today," Arthur murmured, pressing his mouth to Merlin's sharp hip bones. The insides of his thighs.

Merlin gave a muffled groan. Arthur smiled against his skin. He was wearing Arthur's red tie, a beautiful compliment to the scarlet rope. And it had been stuffed into his mouth, the silk fabric a gag between his lips.

They'd discussed this on their way up to Arthur's room. There wasn't much time for them to play tonight and Arthur wasn't going to push Merlin hard. But they were both needy and aching for it. So Arthur didn't waste any time.

He pressed open Merlin's thighs and took him slowly into his mouth. Merlin's back bowed, the top of his head pressing back into Arthur's pillows. He moaned against Arthur's tie, garbled and lewd and Arthur closed his eyes, the sound warming him from the inside out. He swallowed Merlin down, generous with his tongue and the heavy weight of his hands, humming against Merlin's overheated flesh until he could feel a tremor start along all of that perfect pale skin.

Merlin had only one instruction tonight. As long as Arthur's mouth was on him, he wasn't allowed to move.

He was struggling. Arthur could feel it as he slowly pulled his mouth up and around Merlin, from base to tip, and again dipping back to the cradle of Merlin's hips, taking his time. Hollowing his cheeks. Sucking gently as he came up again. Swallowing as he went down.

Merlin gave a pathetic cry against his gag. He wailed abortively when Arthur opened him further. Pressed a single finger inside as he continued.

His fingers were slick, and warm, and Merlin choked on the gag when he made it to three. He wanted so badly to move, but he'd been good today. He knew he could be better.

Impressed, Arthur lifted his head, dragging his tongue along the sensitive underside of Merlin's cock as he came off of the shaking body beneath him, and continued searching with his fingers, stroking Merlin in his hot hand.

Merlin was unable to stop the noises he was making against Arthur's tie. He cried out when Arthur found that too-good spot inside of him, closing his elbows over his face, as if that would keep his cries from gaining volume.

Arthur leaned back over him, pressed just his lips to Merlin's crown, and with Arthur's mouth back on his skin, he was forced to still himself as Arthur continued to find that spot over and over, in and out.

Merlin wailed, helpless, needing something faster, something deeper, and he cried out in earnest, willing Arthur to understand.

 _Please..._ Merlin begged wordlessly. _Please..._

He would come like this, he could feel it building, taking all his candy floss pleasure and coiling it into a steel cable in his belly. Slowly. Slowly. But turning tighter and tighter, and tighter still. His abdomen ached with the pressure of it.

He sobbed. Moaned.

Prayed.

And somehow, somehow Arthur heard him. He must have, because Merlin was suddenly empty and the loss of Arthur's hands, his mouth, relaxed all his aching muscles reflexively, staying the tide for a moment longer until he could feel the head of Arthur's cock against him. Merlin groaned out in wordless gratitude, the sounds wet now, and deeper in the back of his throat, which he bared to the ceiling when Arthur lifted his thighs, taking his knees off the mattress, using the harness to take some of his weight.

Arthur draped Merlin's long legs over his shoulders as he pressed inside. Taking his time. He fisted one hand in the harness he'd tied around Merlin's hips and thighs. Sliding all the way inside until they were flush together. Until Arthur was no longer sure where he started, and Merlin ended. And then Arthur leaned in further. Bending Merlin down and into the soft mattress. Letting the ropes bite just a little.

Merlin bucked, his knees tightening on Arthur's shoulders. Begging him to move. They both heaved for breath. Arthur covered Merlin's trembling knee with his free hand.

And then, Arthur fucked him. Hard.

He was relentless, matching his rhythm to the blissed out moans Merlin pressed against his gag, he chased down his own fevered climax, willing Merlin to move with him.

"You were brilliant," he whispered against Merlin's thigh, breathlessly. As helpless now as the body in his hands. "I've never seen anything like you, Merlin. You were perfect. You did so well."

Merlin sobbed, fucked back into Arthur, rolling his hips, outside of himself now. All he could feel were the words Arthur pressed into his skin, and the sparkling wave of shattering steel cascading across his belly, the tops of his thighs. He screamed when he came, crying out Arthur's name unintelligibly, locked in a rigid arch as Arthur continued fucking him, faster now, until suddenly he was being filled, deeper and softer, and Arthur sank his teeth into inside of his thigh as he came, because if he didn't he would be screaming too, and Merlin screamed for them both, twisting his chest away until there was only a mewling staccato moan left behind as Arthur nursed the bruise gently with his lips. Kissing, and sucking there until Merlin was nothing but a boneless weight in his shaking lap.

Arthur closed his eyes. Stroked Merlin's jumping skin in his palms. Listened to Merlin's absent, trailing moans.

"Keep your knees on my shoulders, love," he murmured. "I'm going to let you down slowly."

Merlin groaned.

Arthur let the upline down until Merlin's back was resting against the mattress, his long, long legs sliding down Arthur's arms, draping them over Arthur's strong hips. He untied Merlin with care, scattering the rope over the edge of his bed, listening to it hit the floor. When the hip harness was finally untied, Arthur ran his hands along the deep indents in Merlin's skin where the ropes had been, massaging gently, earning a pleased hum from the other man. Arthur kissed Merlin's stomach, because he couldn't help himself. And then his chest. His shoulder. His throat.

Gently he pulled the tie from Merlin's swollen lips, kissing him there too, listening to the pull of Merlin's arms against his headboard. The scratch of the ropes against the wood as he threaded his hands through Merlin's sweat damp hair. Tugged hard. Explored Merlin's mouth reverently with his tongue.

"I'm so proud of you," he breathed against Merlin's parted lips. "I'm so proud."

And Merlin was kissing him back in earnest, his cheeks wet, speaking between moments when his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied.

"Let me go," he said. "Please Arthur, let me hold you before I go."

And this wasn't part of the game, so Arthur tugged the ropes free, kissing Merlin's cheeks, his nose as he did. And then Merlin was folding him into his arms, pressing him down into the soft, safe place between Merlin's shoulder and his jaw.

"That was amazing," Merlin breathed into his hair. He was cradling Arthur's shoulder in his palm. Tracing patterns down the line of Arthur's spine. "It was perfect."

Arthur smiled against Merlin's neck. Let out a long, slow breath.

"Yes," he murmured, already on the verge of sleep.

Merlin let him drift, counting all the seconds there was in ten minutes, silently to himself, letting Arthur's weight pressing him into the mattress set his bones back in place.

Make him feel whole.

* * *

When Merlin and Leon left that evening, Percival came with them. Leon told him it was so that Percival could familiarize himself with the routes they took to and from Merlin's apartment with Gwen, in the event that Leon or Gwaine were unable to pick him up.

Merlin was feeling sleepy and content when he got in the car, and paid little attention to Percival speaking to Leon from the backseat of the Charger as they drove. He was idly drawing equations on the passenger side window, thinking about patterns in numbers and the patterns of rope marks he had on his thighs and his waist, when Percival's deep voice broke his concentration.

"They tell me you're a genius," he was saying loudly as if he'd said it once already.

"They?" Merlin said, shifting in his seat.

"Gwaine, Leon, Elyan, Arthur," Percival said conversationally.

Merlin glanced over the back of his seat at the big man.

"Have any of you ever met a genius?"

Percival seemed to give it some thought.

"Don't think so," he said agreeably.

"Then how would any of you know?" Merlin said.

Percival barked out a laugh. Leon grinned. Merlin laughed quietly, turning back to the window.

"Well you seem smart," Percival said.

"Everyone seems smart to you, Percy," Leon cut in. Percival thumped him on the back of the head.

"Except Gwaine. Did he tell you about the cheese wheel?"

"That dream he's been having?" Leon clarified. "About the wheel of cheese that tastes like apple pie?"

Percival shook his head. "Weird fuck," he said affectionately. Leon snorted.

"Well that weird fuck was the one who found your plane. You should be kissing his feet."

Merlin smiled to himself, adding a figure to the window before he paused, his finger hovering just over the glass. Leon, accustomed to his body language now, noticed the change, while Percival continued from the back, oblivious.

"Have you ever _smelled_ his socks? Do you want me dead, Leon? I thought we were friends."

"Percy, shut the fuck up for a second," Leon snapped. The big man was instantly quiet. But Merlin was somewhere else, in the offices in Camlan, looking at a piece of paper that had been pulled from 2014 when it shouldn't have been. Buried in the files from this year. What was the tail number on that contract flight? Why did it ring a bell?

"What is it, Merlin?" Leon prompted.

"Percival," Merlin said quietly, looking over the numbers fading from the window. "What was the tail number from the plane you were flying, the one that went down?"

"G73NC," he said without hesitation.

The sequence lit up something in Merlin's mind. Connecting more dots. He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. He wanted to see the files from 2014. He wanted to see the flight report.

"Was it a business flight?"

"I was taking ground images for one of Arthur's contracts. It was the last sortie in the capture."

"A five year contract?"

Percival tilted his head, intrigued. "Yes."

"Merlin?" Leon said again, taking the long way around Merlin's apartment complex. They'd arrived, but Leon didn't want to slow down Merlin's train of thought.

"Why were you flying the plane, Percival?" Merlin continued, ignoring Leon for a moment longer. "Arthur has subcontractors for that."

"I have the experience, and the clearance to fly higher risk areas," Percival replied. "We needed special permissions to fly below regulation."

Leon was making another pass around Merlin's apartment.

"Had you done that before? Fly that area for this contract?"

"All three flights," Percival confirmed. He started to continue, but Merlin spoke over him.

"2014, 2017, and 2020," Merlin said.

"...that's right."

Merlin was silent again. Leon huffed.

"Merlin, I can't keep circling the block," he said.

"Sorry," Merlin replied, but it was distant. He was still lost in thought. "I think..."

The other men in the car waited. Merlin seemed to hedge his response just then. It made Leon frown.

"I think I need to see those flight years, as soon as possible."

Percival leaned forward.

"You think it has something to do with Arthur's missing revenue?"

Merlin was frowning deeply now.

"I don't know. But there's something..." he didn't really know how to explain to either of them what he was thinking. But he tried nonetheless.

"Numbers create patterns," Merlin told them. "Even when people attempt to create random sequences in numbers, they always end up with familiar variations. I thought what I was looking for was a trail of numbers in the transaction history. But I wonder..."

"You wonder if it's the plane?"

Merlin looked over his shoulder at Percival, impressed.

"But how does one plane in a fleet of aircraft make any difference to the delivery of Arthur's contracts?" Leon asked, finally pulling into Merlin's apartment complex. "You said someone was moving money digitally, not in an airplane."

That _was_ true. Except.

"All of those aircrafts," Merlin said carefully. "They're equipped with computers, to capture images and record them for Arthur's company?"

The two men were silent as Leon threw the car into park. For a long time none of them moved. Finally Merlin turned to Leon.

"I'll need those boxes from Camlan," Merlin said with authority. Leon nodded.

"You'll have them in two days."

Merlin blew out a breath. Waited patiently for Leon to exit the car and walk to Merlin's door to open it for him. For a few seconds, it was just him and Percival in the Charger.

"Something else is bothering you," Percival said gently.

Merlin didn't respond. What he'd said to Dr. Gaius that morning, about how he'd suspected that this problem started when Uther's health was on the decline, was true. But even with a cursory dive into the figures, Merlin had found gaps he couldn't explain.

If he was right about the aircraft Percival had been flying in Canada, then this problem had begun well before Uther had grown too ill to manage his company. Maybe he had been too narrow-minded when he'd looked at the two-year figures.

"Percival," Merlin said, turning to him just as Leon opened the car door. The rush of cold air made him shiver. The big man seemed unfazed.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I'll need your help when those boxes arrive from Camlan. Can you get me your flight manifests, and any data on the aircraft's maintenance over the last five years?"

Percival nodded.

"Easily done."

Merlin stepped out of the car with a sigh.

"Thanks," he said. Leon shut the door. Started up the steel staircase with him, just behind his shoulder.

"What's going on in that big brain of yours, Balinor?" He said as they reached the top.

Merlin stared at the door handle. Listened to the falling snow.

"I don't know," Merlin said, and it frustrated him because it was true. "I really don't know."


	22. Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin calls Arthur at work with a special request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Thank you so much for waiting patiently for the next chapter and leaving me such beautiful comments. I just moved into a new flat and things have been a crazy busy mess while I've gotten settled. But we're back on track now, so keep an eye out for another update this week, and some additional chapters for Reader Request Month, and The Same Truths. You are all absolutely wonderful thank you so much again. 💋

* * *

Two days later, Merlin was elbow deep in the newly delivered boxes from Arthur's offices in Camlan. He had his phone propped up between his shoulder and his ear, his shirtsleeves cuffed to his elbows, talking through the pen in his mouth.

"I'm looking, hang on," Merlin was saying. He listened to Dr. Gaius, shuffling around on the other end of the line.

"You need to find what changed, Merlin," he was saying.

He pulled free a file, flipped it open. Tossed it aside.

"I know," Merlin said without heat. "I'm not familiar with this industry, I don't know what that would even look like."

"Technology changes every day," Gaius said. It sounded like he had paused to take a drink. "Ignore the day to day fluctuations. You're looking for an anomaly. Something that drastically changed directions for the company."

Merlin took the pen from his mouth. Stuck it behind his ear and kept digging.

"What if I'm wrong?" He said, flipping through another packet.

"What if you are?" Gaius fired back. "That's why we look, Merlin. That's what experiments are for."

Merlin sighed. Behind him the door to his office opened. Arthur had repurposed one of the crash rooms in the Cavendish manor, moving the bedroom furniture out and creating a large working office for Merlin in it's place. He glanced over his shoulder and waved absently when Percival entered with another box.

"Can I call you back, later?" Merlin asked, leaning on the wide conference table in the middle of the floor.

"Call me any time, Merlin."

"Thanks Gaius."

He hung up. Briefly hung his head.

"Rough morning?" Percival asked with a grin.

"Getting rougher," Merlin said, running his hand through his hair, eyeing the box Percival was setting down on the already cluttered conference table.

"Are those the flight manifests I asked for?"

"Yeah," Percival agreed, patting the bulging plastic tote. "You said you'd need my help?"

Merlin stared at Percival for a long time. Percival raised an eyebrow. It was clear that for a few moments, Merlin had no idea what he was talking about.

"In the car? A few days ago, you said you'd need my help with this stuff...?"

"Oh!" Merlin threw up his hands. "Oh! Right! Yes!"

Percival couldn't raise his eyebrow any higher, but he would if he could.

"Sorry," Merlin said, walking around the table to his desk.

It was somehow just as cluttered as the rest of the room, even though Merlin had only been occupying the space for less than two days. His laptop was hooked up to two additional larger monitors, and he wiggled his mouse to wake them up.

"There's a chair under there somewhere," he said by way of invitation. Percival shook his head with a snort. Crossed the room carefully to excavate the chair Merlin had indicated.

"Leon told me you were a slob," said jovially. "I didn't believe him."

Merlin laughed, leaning over his desk, looking through his emails for an attachment Arthur had sent to him earlier that week. He wasn't offended by comments like that. He'd heard them often enough as a boy.

"I like to think of it as organized chaos," Merlin said cheerfully.

"It's something, alright."

Merlin grinned, but kept his eyes on the monitors.

"Arthur sent me some of the training documents for your technicians and engineers, but it's over my head."

Percival didn't say anything so Merlin looked up. He was playing with a Rubix Cube he'd snagged from Merlin's desk.

Percival glanced up when he noticed Merlin staring.

"You're not serious?"

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"I'm not an engineer, Percival. I can't just manifest the information I need."

"I'm not an engineer either," Percival said indignantly.

Merlin ran a hand over his face. Lowered himself into his own chair which was, perhaps not surprisingly, the only completely clear surface in the office.

"No, you're right, I know. But you understand the industry. I don't. I need you to tell me everything about the plane you were flying, even if it's a detail you think might not be relevant, I want to hear it. How it does the job, the equipment, how the pilot plays their role in the process."

"Sure," Percival said, still fiddling with the Rubix Cube. "But it's not the plane doing the job, it's the camera system. A lot of that's propriety though. Uther built the platform himself. Might take a while to explain."

Merlin pulled out a digital recorder and set it on the edge of the desk between the two of them.

"Not a problem," Merlin said, finding a clean sheet of paper in one of his notebooks and went looking for his pen.

"Behind your ear," Percival said.

Merlin snagged it, looking up sheepishly.

"Organized chaos my ass," Percival grinned.

* * *

By the time Percival left, he and Merlin had been talking for nearly four hours. And sitting alone in his office, Merlin stared at the paper hanging from the back of his door, the one he'd written up at the Estate. The numbers felt jumbled to him. They didn't track against his expectations.

He recognized this conundrum from his days at Uni, when he would start a problem and realize he'd deviated too far, or he'd reached for a problem that wasn't there. Following the sequences of numbers along the paper, he didn't see a solution. It didn't mean he wasn't looking in the right direction, but he worried he might be on the wrong track.

The longer he went without an answer, the longer he and Arthur had to wait to go to the press. He rubbed his eyes. Logged his time, and then went out into the main house.

Gwaine was headed down the hall toward the kitchen ahead of him, and Merlin followed quietly, lost in thought.

"How's it going?" Gwaine called from over his shoulder. "I see you finally let Percival come up for air."

Merlin laughed and loosened his tie as he entered the kitchen with Gwaine.

"Yeah, I'm just playing catch up. Numbers make sense to me, but the numbers in relation to Arthur's business is harder to parse. I'm just trying to understand."

He leaned into the fridge as he said it. Snagged a yogurt and pulled the foil free with his teeth as he rummaged through the drawers, looking for a spoon.

Gwaine put his small tablet into the inside pocket of his jacket and leaned back against the table while Merlin ate.

"What's the theory?"

Merlin looked up mid-bite. Swallowed before he responded.

"Initially I thought that this was a...I don't know how these things work, really, like a scam run on Arthur _after_ Uther died and he assumed control of the company. My first instinct was that someone...probably more than one someone, was taking advantage of Arthur's inexperience running Uther's company."

Gwaine tilted his head from one shoulder to the other. Not agreeing. Not disagreeing.

"Arthur's pretty experienced in the business."

"Yeah but he took time off to enlist. And more to finish his degrees. So it's good experience but sporadic. I assumed someone was taking advantage of the fact that he didn't have eyes on the business from start to finish."

"And now?"

"Now I think the problem started with Uther," Merlin said quietly. "But that makes the amount of data to sift through _astronomical_. It also likely means it will be harder to find, assuming Uther had nothing to do with it."

He finished his yogurt, tossed the empty cup in the bin with the spoon still in his mouth.

"You think Uther had something to do with it?"

"No, no," Merlin said emphatically, shaking his head as he took his spoon to the sink to wash it off. "I haven't seen anything that would make me think that. I only meant that, if whoever is doing this was able to hide it from Uther while he was still alive, then finding the evidence will be much more difficult to do."

Gwaine was looking at the floor when Merlin put the spoon away and dried his hands, thinking it over.

"How's things on your end?"

Merlin said, maybe a little too cheerfully. He could see that Gwaine was thinking about this problem taking longer to solve than they had initially imagined, and thinking of Arthur, and what that might mean for them all. Merlin had never stopped thinking about that, and he didn't want Gwaine to carry that burden just yet. He needed proof he was right first, that the problem was actually bigger than he'd initially thought. Until then, the less people worrying about it, the better.

Gwaine looked up at the ceiling, appeared to be giving his response some thought.

"I reached out to Lancelot, no response yet, but it's still early. I called in a favor to see if I could dig up a surname on our mysterious friend Cedric, and Elyan ran down an lead on the photo taken of you and Arthur in the Excalibur club the night of the rope demonstration. But he didn't make much progress."

Gwaine sounded frustrated. Merlin felt hollow.

"What about Freya?" He said.

"Now _that_ wasn't a bad phone call. She didn't know herself, but she said she'd ask around to see where the tip came from. She told me to tell you to give her a call if you're up for it."

Merlin smiled sadly. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Gwaine echoed.

Merlin shrugged.

"It's hard for me to hear her voice," he admitted quietly. "I used to turn off the telly, on the rare occasions she'd guest spot on the news. Bad memories."

Gwaine nodded.

"Where is Leon today?" Merlin said, changing the subject so that it wouldn't be awkward for the both of them. He hadn't seen Leon since he'd picked him up earlier that morning.

"Leon took the afternoon. Personal reasons. He'll be back in a few hours to take you home, or Percival will take you if you need to be home earlier."

Merlin shook his head. "No, I should get back to work."

Gwaine smiled. Held out his fist, which Merlin bumped with his own before turning to head back to his office.

"Hey Merlin?"

Merlin turned, his hand on the door jam.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," Gwaine said.

Merlin smiled, a little confused.

"For what?"

Gwaine shrugged, his answering smiled mischievous. He opened his mouth to respond when Percival came through the backdoor, his hair and eyelashes dusted with snow.

"Fuck it's cold," he said, stamping out his boots.

Merlin waited a moment longer to see if Gwaine would answer, and when he didn't made his way back to his office. He entered listening to the good natured banter between Gwaine and Percival, and shut the door slowly, turning his attention back to the numbers and the problem.

For a long time he stood in his office and looked at the papers on his conference table without really seeing them. He needed some focus, a direction, or something to hold on to in order to get himself back on track.

He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and queued up the number he wanted but hesitated before dialing it. He glanced at the clock, and then walked to his desk and pulled up Arthur's calendar.

Busy. For at least another hour. Merlin propped his elbows on his desk and rubbed his eyes.

"Okay," Merlin whispered. "Okay. You need to slow down. Don't run at the problem like a battering ram. You have too many angles. Which one can you parse right now?"

He leaned his head into the palms of his hands, eyes closed, and tried to make sense of his own equations. They felt scattered and disconnected to him.

He still didn't know enough about the equipment on the plane that Percival was flying in order to continue with that train of thought. He lowered his hands. Stared at the boxes.

Transaction history and contract negotiations, then. He was going to have to go back further than two years.

He stood. Began pulling boxes and checking the dates on the paperwork inside.

It was going to be a long hour.

* * *

Arthur hadn't had a moment alone all day, so when his cell phone rang as he was headed back to his office after his last meeting, he almost didn't pick it up. He checked his smart watch first, and picked up immediately.

"This is Arthur," he said softly, when the call connected.

Merlin breathed out audibly on the phone, as if he'd been holding his breath.

"Arthur," Merlin repeated, and it sounded like _'Welcome Home'_.

"How are you?" Arthur said, entering his office and shutting the door. He made eye contact with his admin, and she nodded, understanding. She wouldn't let anyone disturb him while he was on the phone.

"Frustrated," Merlin said. Arthur raised his eyebrows. Leaned back a little in his desk chair.

"Oh?"

"I just feel a little scatter-brained today," Merlin said quietly.

"Was Percival able to help at all?"

"A little," Merlin admitted. "But I still need to go over my notes on all of it. You have a very complicated business, Arthur."

He barked out a laugh unexpectedly. His admin turned her head in the frosted glass pane of his door. He cleared his throat, made an effort to quiet his laughing.

"I am doing my best to simplify it, you know."

"Perhaps you could move a bit faster then," Merlin quipped, affecting Arthur's posh accent. But Arthur's smile was growing, because he could hear the smile on Merlin's lips.

"Uther and I had very different ideas on how to run a business. I'm still untangling a few knots. You'll forgive me?"

"I suppose," Merlin said playfully. "I'll just untangle the business equivalent to the world's largest ball of string by myself then."

"Is that a real thing?"

"What, the ball of string?" Merlin asked around a laugh. "It is, somewhere in the mid-west United States, I think."

"Christ," Arthur laughed, rubbing his forehead. "Then what can I do to help?"

Merlin hesitated a beat. This was new territory for them - calling each other during the day, acting like the partners they were, finally. It was awkward and it sometimes felt as though the dynamic between them might change if they acknowledged the difference. This felt like another one of those moments. Arthur still wasn't sure how to address it.

"...can I see you tonight?" Merlin said finally.

"I'll come to Cavendish after I'm finished here," Arthur agreed.

"Okay," Merlin said. Arthur tilted his head, waited a moment to add,

"Was there something else, love?"

He could practically feel Merlin blushing from the other end of the line. It took him some time, but eventually, Merlin managed to make his request.

Arthur was patient as Merlin spoke haltingly through what he wanted. He had never known Merlin to be unsure of his words, so he didn't interrupt and listened carefully. It struck Arthur that this wasn't an unusual request, given their normal appetites, and although they had never discussed it beforehand, they had played out a scene like the one Merlin described organically, once before. But for some reason Merlin was having difficulty with explaining it to him. He seemed inordinately shy about the conversation, and shy was not a word Arthur would ever think to use when describing Merlin. There was something lingering under the scene he was talking through, something important to Merlin. But whatever it was, he hadn't said it yet.

"Is...do you think we could do something like that? Tonight?"

"I'd like that," Arthur said honestly. "I'll expect you'll be ready, when I get to the manor."

"Yes," Merlin breathed. Arthur smiled. It was still a few hours yet before he'd have George drop him off.

"Hey Arthur?" Merlin cut in again, abruptly. His tone of voice had changed, and it made Arthur sit up a little straighter, his brows lowering over his blue eyes.

"Yes?"

"Is everything okay with Leon?" He said. "Gwaine said he took the day, but I haven't heard from him at all."

Arthur smiled a little sadly. Touched and not entirely sure how to proceed.

"Yes, he's alright. Leon just had something to take care of unexpectedly. You can call him to tell him to take his time tonight if you like. You and I can stay at Cavendish."

"Isn't that against the rules?" Merlin teased. "What will Gwaine say?"

Merlin wasn't wrong, but Arthur had known that his relationship with Merlin would need to be balanced between the work they were doing and having the freedom to be with each other. He wasn't going to wrap either of their lives up in packing peanuts to keep them safe. What they needed was privacy. Which gave him an idea. He jotted down a note on his scheduling planner as he continued.

"I'm sure I'll get an earful when I call him shortly to let him know. Divide and conquer?"

Merlin laughed. "Sounds good. I'll let you go for now."

Arthur smiled. "Yes Merlin. For now."

* * *

When Arthur came to Cavendish that evening, the manor was silent when he entered. Per his instructions Gwaine and Percival would be working out of the secondary office building he'd converted the old barn into.

He shut the door behind him, and Merlin was there, crossing the stone floor in his socked feet. He took Arthur's coat off, his fingers grazing Arthur's shoulders through his button up. He felt hot to the touch, but his movements were quiet and graceful, and he draped Arthur's coat over his arm carefully, taking a step back when Arthur turned to look him over.

He was still, standing under Arthur's gaze, which more than anything explained his needs, tonight. Merlin was a playful, indulgent lover, and his brilliant mind was always at work. To be quiet and still was difficult for him, even during a scene where it was asked of him.

He was still dressed for work, in a pair of dark trousers, a blue tie tucked into his grey sweater. Arthur took Merlin by the chin, gently, and kissed him.

He wasn't planning to, based on Merlin's requests over the phone. But he couldn't help himself. Neither, it seemed, could Merlin. He leaned into the kiss, taking it for the momentary lapse in their scene that it was, taking what he could, knowing it would be a while yet before he'd have any more.

Arthur let him. They hadn't seen each other in days, and it felt like ages.

When he pulled back, Arthur kept a hold of Merlin's chin, running his thumb over Merlin's bottom lip.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello Arthur," Merlin replied quietly.

Arthur let him go then, and Merlin again lowered his eyes. Settling into his own headspace, Arthur's posture changed, and the reaction Merlin had was immediate. Every muscle across his shoulders and arms tensed.

Arthur waited, but Merlin seemed to be struggling with what to do next so he raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips.

"Well? You scheduled this meeting, not me. Shall we get on with it?"

Merlin flinched.

"Sorry." And then, catching himself, "I'm sorry, Arthur."

Arthur waved his hand, a gesture that clearly said _get on with it then._

Merlin swallowed, and then turned, heading down the hall to his office.

When they entered, Arthur was amazed to see it was such a chaotic mess, and entirely unsurprised. Papers and boxes and numbers written on the walls and on the window panes with an oil pencil. But his desk was clean. Arthur sat, while Merlin hung his coat on the stand by the door.

He crossed his legs at the knee and watched Merlin moving around the office pulling documents and looking genuinely flustered.

"Shouldn't you have had this prepared already?" Arthur said, leaning his head on his hand. Merlin winced, and then setting the papers down at Arthur's elbow said,

"I got distracted. I made tea."

And then he turned again, to lift a tray on the sideboard, with a mug of tea already steeping.

Arthur did not smile, but he would have if this had been any other situation.

He pretended not to care as Merlin set the tray on the end of the conference table and finished making the tea. While Merlin's back was turned he removed his glasses case from inside his suit jacket and unfolded his frames. Merlin had turned back to him with the tea just as he'd settled them on his nose. There was a tangible pause in the room between them as Merlin stopped to stare. Again, Arthur paid it no mind. He looked over the documents Merlin had left for him.

This was in part, both a scene and a functional business matter. Arthur didn't want to cross the line when it came to mixing their personal lives with their working relationship, but Merlin needed him to settle his mind. And this matter, however he would have preferred it to be otherwise, was now intimately connected to the fate of their relationship.

Merlin lowered himself to the floor on his knees, by Arthur's crossed legs, and waited for him to take the tea from Merlin's outstretched arms. Arthur waited a bit longer than was necessary, until he knew it was beginning to get uncomfortable for Merlin to hold that position for much longer, and then, glancing at Merlin very briefly, as if just noticing he was there, took the tea without comment and went back to reading.

Merlin clenched the fabric of his own trousers in his hands as he waited, kneeling by Arthur's chair, for him to comment. To say anything.

Arthur turned the page. Sipped his tea. Kept reading.

Merlin closed his eyes, felt hot and more than a little embarrassed. He wanted to be good for Arthur, but he had severely underestimated what his own reaction to Arthur's indifference would be. He had to fight down the urge to stop himself from calling the whole thing off and jumping Arthur right then and there, to beg him to look at him, to touch him. His fists were white knuckle tight in the fabric of his own trousers.

"Color, Merlin?" Arthur said quietly. He wasn't looking at him. But something about the way he'd said it, said Merlin's _name_ gave Merlin the reassurance he needed. Arthur could see him. He wasn't as invisible as he felt.

He let out a breath. Kept his eyes down.

"Green, Arthur," he whispered.

Somewhere along the line, they had dropped the formalities of their playing. "Sir" wasn't necessary anymore, for Merlin. Arthur's name was the only one he'd ever use in that context again, he was sure of it. And for Arthur, he and Merlin had left Emrys at Excalibur. It was Merlin he wanted. No other name would suffice.

"It appears you've been working very diligently, hasn't it?" Arthur said, pausing to sip his tea.

Merlin struggled not to hunch his shoulders a little, at the backhanded compliment.

"Explain it to me," Arthur said dismissively. "I'm tired of reading."

Merlin shifted, and then quietly started to speak.

Arthur listened. In truth the documents that Merlin had prepared for him to review were incredibly detailed and easy to follow. They must have taken hours to complete with all those figures, images and explanations. There was even an index with references to the files he'd pulled the original data from. It was brilliant. So this was the hard part, pretending not to be impressed by Merlin's exceptional, beautiful mind.

Merlin was still tense while he explained what he'd been working on to Arthur. Maybe because this part of the scene was rooted in reality, he didn't feel himself beginning to float, as he might have expected. It made him a little anxious as he reached for the briefing packet he'd prepared, asking Arthur politely to pass it to him.

He did, and Merlin opened the file, referencing a particular document.

"And you want my opinion on this?" Arthur asked.

Merlin looked up at him, and then down again.

"Yes, Arthur."

Arthur looked Merlin over for a long moment.

"Isn't that what I pay you for? So I don't have to?"

Merlin flinched.

Arthur sipped his tea.

"It's just...I wasn't sure, about..." Merlin gasped when Arthur took him by the chin, cutting him off. He was staring into Arthur's blue eyes, his lips parted, his skin hot.

"You're very articulate when you want to be, Merlin," Arthur said softly, a breath away from his mouth. "So I know you can do it."

Merlin shuddered. Reorganized his thoughts in Arthur's eyes. Tried again.

"I'm pulling myself in too many directions," Merlin said confidently. "This is your company, and you know it better than anyone. I don't want to rely on my opinion alone, when I know your help would better serve us both."

Arthur's silence following Merlin's statement had nothing to do with the role he had adopted for the scene. He was so filled by Merlin's words, so pleased, he wasn't able to immediately react. No one had ever said anything to him like that, before.

"Well said," Arthur allowed, dropping Merlin's chin and leaning back in his chair. Like it wasn't the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. Like it didn't mean the world.

But the half praise softened Merlin's gaze. Inching closer to the thing he needed most from Arthur tonight. Calm, and his earned approval.

"Alright," Arthur said indulgently, holding out his hand for the briefing packet. "Let me see it then."

Merlin did.

He was actually reading the brief, and carefully, so he didn't hear Merlin immediately when he spoke.

"Speak up," he said without looking up from the papers.

"Can I get you anything?" Merlin said, his voice raised but still a little shy.

Arthur turned to look at him. He was a little fidgety, which was good. He was losing the sharpness around his edges and that's what he needed. Arthur considered him. Decided that Merlin deserved a moment of relief. He was being so patient, and Arthur was impressed. He must have been carrying a lot of stress about this issue, to have held on to his tension this long.

"Another cup of tea, Merlin. Thank you."

It was the thank you that made Merlin light up from the inside out. He made Arthur another cup of tea and then lowered himself again to his knees at Arthur's feet.

Arthur looked up from the papers. Made sure that Merlin was looking at his face. It was something about his glasses that Merlin enjoyed, although this was the first time Merlin had very explicitly asked him to wear them. Whatever they were doing for Merlin, he planned to exploit it.

"This brief," Arthur said, putting his hand flat on the document. Merlin tensed, but did not look away from Arthur's face. "Thank you, for putting this together for me, Merlin. It's very impressive. You're very gifted, to be able to lay out for me your concerns, in a subject that you know is over my head."

Merlin let out a breath, lowered his head a little. Arthur could see that he was trying hard not to cry. So emotional, and they'd barely gotten moving with the scene...he had definitely been carrying more stress on the matter then Arthur had given the situation credit for. His gaze softened. He took Merlin's face in his hands, pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"How exceptional you are," he whispered against Merlin's skin. "I'm so pleased."

At that, Merlin let out a sob, lifting his head to press his cheek to Arthur's, responding shakily, in Arthur's ear.

"Tell me what to do," he said. "Please, Arthur."

Arthur leaned back a little, brushed Merlin's high cheekbones with his thumbs.

"Okay," he whispered. "Here is what we're going to do."

This was a risk. He knew it was, and if it were any other person, Arthur wouldn't have done it; to so intrinsically tie their sexual relationship to their work relationship. But he had faith in Merlin. And he knew his faith was not misplaced.

"You can ask me three questions about the problem, and when I've answered, you will guess what my opinion is on the matter. If you guess wrong, I get to do whatever I want with you tonight,"

Merlin closed his eyes, and Arthur felt a shudder run through Merlin, under his hands.

"If you guess right," he continued. "You get to do whatever you want with me."

Merlin's eyes flashed open. Suddenly Arthur was engulfed in that improbable, incendiary, glacial blue.

"Color, Merlin," Arthur said quietly.

"Green, Arthur," Merlin breathed. "But..."

He caught himself. Pulling back Arthur looked him over seriously.

"But?"

"Can...can I touch you?"

Arthur considered him. Merlin wasn't talking about intimate contact. He wanted to put his head on Arthur's leg, or inch himself closer to Arthur's body. One of the rules they had started the night with, included tactile isolation. So Merlin would only be in contact with Arthur if Arthur reached out and touched him. If he touched Arthur without permission, he would be punished.

"Do you think you've earned it?" Arthur said.

Merlin shook his head, which made Arthur lift his eyebrows in surprise.

"No....I don't, but...I wanted to thank you, for what you said."

Arthur couldn't keep his act up much longer, if Merlin was going to continue speaking so earnestly to him.

"What did I say?" He prompted gently.

" _How exceptional you are,_ " Merlin repeated, his voice breaking a little. There were tears on his cheeks again, spilling over Arthur's fingers. "I've never told you, how much it means to me, when you say that. When you say things like that," Merlin continued, his voice hitching on his tears now. "It makes me feel like magic."

Arthur leaned in immediately. Kissed Merlin's cheeks, his eyes. His reddened nose.

"Oh Merlin," he said, meaning it. "You are. You must know by now, that to me you are."

And he didn't give his permission, but this wasn't part of the game, so Merlin surged forward coming up off his heels, wrapping his long arms around Arthur's strong neck, and pulled him close, burying his face in the warm skin below Arthur's jaw. Arthur closed his arms around his back, and Merlin kissed his throat, his jaw, and he was still crying, and it was such a relief to finally, finally press his lips to Arthur's and take what he needed.

Arthur kissed him back, deeply, and he had a moment to wonder, as he had when he first met Merlin, who had told him that his gifts weren't good enough without a degree behind them. Why it meant so much to him, when Arthur told him differently. Why he second-guessed himself so often, when he had his brilliant mind, and his clever words, and his endless, endless curiosity. He kissed Merlin back, trying to convey all of this in a single action. That Merlin was a wonder. That he was brave, and bright, and that no man, least of all Arthur, was worth his tears.

When they had sated themselves of one another, as much as they could with Merlin still on his knees and Arthur still in his suit and tie, they rested for a long moment, forehead to forehead, breathing hard for such a small exertion.

"First question?" Arthur whispered, his eyes still closed. Merlin nodded against his forehead.

"Just a minute more," he whispered back.

Arthur smiled.

After a few seconds longer, Merlin finally settled back on his heels, and Arthur straightened, leaning back in Merlin's office chair. He took off his glasses briefly and cleaned them, to give Merlin a few seconds more to breathe. Then he said,

"Color, Merlin?"

"Green, Arthur."

"First question, then," he said, putting his glasses back on, aware of Merlin's hungry gaze tracking the movement of it as he went.

"Is there a logical correlation to the two problems outlined in the brief?"

Arthur put a finger on his lips. Thought it over. This question was dangerously close to outright asking him his opinion, which although he had not expressly forbidden, Merlin knew better than to attempt. He considered redirecting Merlin, instead of answering. But it was a fair question.

"I think that based on the evidence you've presented, you could make a sound case that there is," he said, knowing the answer would irritate Merlin. As expected, those glacial blue eyes flashed in annoyance and Arthur smiled.

"This is your only warning," he said by way of explanation. "If you try to get me to give you a direct response with clever obscurity, expect my answers to be equally vague."

Merlin looked away, a little embarrassed, and chewed on his lip. Arthur sipped his cold tea while he waited.

"Do you think that the data pool I've presented is efficient?" He said at last. "Is there enough information for a clear view of the problem?"

Arthur gave that one some thought.

"What is the year of origin?" He asked.

"The first time there was a financial leak?" Merlin clarified. Arthur nodded.

"I don't know," Merlin said honestly.

"So it's none of the years presented here," Arthur said, spreading his fingers across the cover of Merlin's brief. Merlin shook his head.

"No."

"Then no, I don't think there is."

That response seemed to deflate Merlin a little. Arthur watched him carefully as he worked out his last question.

"Which page in the brief did you pay the most attention to?" Merlin said finally.

Arthur flipped the document open, thinking to himself. Then he turned the file around and handed it to Merlin.

He'd opened it to page fifteen, where Merlin had highlighted the pattern of fiscal leaks for two years, showing the deficits in red and the balancing revenue in black.

Merlin looked over the page briefly. Set the document in his lap. He looked troubled.

"Color, Merlin?"

There was the briefest of hesitation in dragging his eyes away from the paper, to Merlin lifting his gaze again to Arthur's, before he said,

"Green, Arthur."

"Are you ready to guess?" He said. Merlin nodded. He was gripping the brief in both hands, but his eyes were on Arthur.

"I'm all ears," Arthur said.

"You think I should continue with my first instinct, and follow the money, not the plane."

He said it so confidently, that for a moment, Arthur had no immediate response.

"Yes," Arthur said gently. "Now tell me why that frustrates you."

Merlin's brows were low over his eyes, had been since they started the game. It couldn't necessarily be considered a glower, but it was close.

"We already know the money is going missing. The question is, _how_."

"And you think the plane is more likely to yield answers?"

Merlin blew out a breath. Looked away.

"I don't know," he whispered. "That's why I asked."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Don't ruin your victory by being petulant because you didn't get the answer you wanted," Arthur said, his tone cool.

Merlin turned, looked like he was about to snap at him, but Arthur was too familiar with Merlin not to pick up his train of thought. Not to understand that Merlin's irritation was a product of his own discomfort and uncertainty.

"Shut up, Merlin," he said. The command crackled in the space between them. Merlin didn't speak, but his shoulders were still high, his gaze hot.

"Good," Arthur said after a pause. "That was very good, Merlin."

When Merlin blinked up at him, it occurred to Arthur that Merlin may not have considered this conversation as part of the game. It was and it wasn't. Merlin had won the game but the scene wasn't over, and there was something bothering him that Arthur had not yet addressed, although Arthur wasn't sure exactly what it was.

Arthur held up one finger as if to say, _"Still green?"_

Merlin held up a finger too, relaxing.

_Still green._

"The reason I think you should focus your energy on the money," Arthur continued, as if they'd never stopped. "Is because you saw the problem there first. Because you already have an equation to help you parse the data, and because if you can locate it's source, you can locate someone who is responsible for the leak. If you locate someone who is responsible, it will be easier for you to review the additional angles you're pursuing, knowing that person or persons, were involved. Right?"

Merlin looked down at the brief in his hands. He'd wrinkled some of the pages in his grip. Slowly he peeled his fingers away from the paper.

"Yes, Arthur."

This still didn't feel like a resolution, although he'd given Merlin what he'd asked for over the phone with him that afternoon.

_"I need you to review the work I'm doing for you...I want you to build a scene around us meeting to discuss my progress. I want your honest opinion."_

Arthur pressed his lips together.

"Merlin?" He said. "Look at me."

It was clear Merlin didn't want to. But he did, after a few seconds.

"Why don't you split the difference?"

Merlin looked taken aback by the question. Arthur waited. Merlin didn't disappoint.

"Between the two hypotheses?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "One day for finances, the next day for the plane."

Merlin thought it over. Hunched a little into his shoulders.

"You don't think that would be a waste of time?" Merlin hedged.

Arthur smiled.

"No, Merlin. If you think it's important to follow-up on, then I trust you."

"Okay," Merlin breathed, closing his eyes. "One day for the plane. One day for the money." He repeated it quietly to himself, as if afraid to forget the words.

When Merlin had opened his eyes, Arthur was again leaning back in his chair.

"You can come here, Merlin," he said gently.

Merlin lowered his brief to the floor, and then moved to sit between Arthur's legs, as he had done at the manor in Camlan, when Arthur had fallen and they were unable to spend the night on a typical scene. He leaned his cheek against the inside of Arthur's thigh, just above his knee, and resting on own hip, his legs pulled up close to both of their bodies, Merlin closed his eyes.

Arthur ran his hand slowly through Merlin's black curls, his affection for Merlin like a void in his chest, waiting to be spent, or filled.

"Merlin," he said. "Your work is far and above anything I ever imagined. What you presented here was perfect. It was exactly what I needed. Thank you."

Merlin turned his face a little, his expression hidden from his hair. But only just.

"I didn't do anything special," he whispered. "They're only numbers. Anyone could have pulled them for you."

Arthur ran his fingers along the nape of Merlin's neck, raising goosebumps there, before continuing to run his fingers through Merlin's curls. It was impossible to mess them up, really. Merlin's hair was in a constant state of rumpled, as though he'd just rolled out of bed.

"You know that isn't true," Arthur said gently.

"It is though," Merlin said, and Arthur was surprised by his pushback. "I told you before, there are people who do this for a living. You could hire anyone to do this for you."

"Merlin...why did you put this briefing packet together?"

At that, Merlin tilted his head a little, to glance at Arthur over his shoulder. He looked perplexed.

"To...explain the work to you...?"

Arthur had to stop himself from laughing out loud.

"You don't sound convinced."

"I am," Merlin said, turning back around to rest his head on Arthur's thigh. "I'm just not sure why you're asking."

"I'm asking because I've never received anything like that, from any of my employees before today."

Merlin was silent as Arthur continued running his hands over his hair, his neck. His shoulders.

"You've been carrying this burden," Arthur continued. "And while you shoulder it, you've shouldered my burden as well. To explain in detail what you're doing, so I don't worry. So I have the answers I need before I ask them of you."

"This is my only burden," Merlin cut in. "You have so many others."

"Merlin," Arthur chided, not unkindly. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

Arthur smiled to himself. Tugged on Merlin's hair sharply.

"Ow," Merlin said, but when he glanced up at Arthur he was finally smiling.

"The point is, Merlin, that nothing you say could convince me that I could hire just anyone to do what you're doing for me." 

"You did so well, Merlin," Arthur continued. "I'm so proud of you."

The words set off a glittering wave inside of Merlin, he couldn't open his mouth, because he was sure it would be an emotional mess if he did. He was sure he would start crying again.

Instead he changed his position, pulled himself closer to wrap his arms around Arthur's middle, to rest his face on Arthur's hip. Arthur continued to cover him in his praise, to run his hands through Merlin's hair, into the neck of his sweater.

"Was this helpful?" Arthur said after a time. "Is this what you wanted?"

Merlin made a soft noise in response.

"It was good, but I was more anxious than I normally am. I couldn't drop entirely."

Arthur hummed a little in agreement.

"Neither could I," he said.

"Next time we try something like this," Arthur went on after he'd given it some thought. "Should we agree not to use an immediate work related issue? I think we both got caught up in the urgency of the problem you're working on."

Merlin blew out a frustrated breath. Squeezed Arthur a little tighter.

"I think so too. Maybe next time we use a problem we've already solved?"

Arthur nodded. "We can try that, sure. Were you satisfied?"

"Yes," Merlin said honestly. "I wasn't sure I would be, but I feel much better now. You?"

"I'm not just singing your praises as a function of Aftercare, Merlin," Arthur said. "I'm so impressed."

He felt Merlin smile against his abdomen. He smiled down at the back of Merlin's head. He gave it another long moment before he took Merlin by the chin. Lifted his head to look into Arthur's eyes.

"So now that you have your answers, and you've won your game," he said. "What are you going to do with me, Merlin?"

Merlin moaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this scene was an important one for me to write in here, because I wanted to give a clearer view of what it's like to run a scenario for the first time, how things can go a little wrong, maybe not enough to end a game, but enough that it's worth mentioning to your partner. This is what communicating aftercare looks like, and I think it's so important for healthy BDSM relationships.
> 
> This particular scenario was a little uneven, as can sometimes happen when mixing play and work life. Which is why, before Merlin takes his prize, the two of them have a "wind down" to address the remaining tension between them. 
> 
> However you choose to accept and recieve aftercare is a personal thing, but it's important that the action is not one-sided. Tops feel just as much uncertainty as bottoms do when a scene goes a little sideways. So always remember to talk through anything that didn't work. And of course the fun part...which is what did work 😏


	23. Something Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy a long chapter today, and a short vignette for Reader Request Month! Next time we will be spending Saturday at the Pendragon Estate with Merlin and Arthur, so check back for a special third update this Saturday! 💋

* * *

"Can I think about what I want?" Merlin said, rising up to his knees to kiss Arthur's face, his throat.

Arthur smiled, nosing Merlin's hair, kissing him back.

"Not for too long, I hope," Arthur said, low, kissing Merlin hard on the mouth, tugging his shirt and sweater out of his trousers sharply, making Merlin groan against his lips.

"Let me save it," Merlin said, tilting his head back to let Arthur bite his tie loose.

"And tonight?" Arthur said, tugging Merlin in for another kiss by the ends of his disheveled tie.

"Tonight I'm whatever you want," Merlin said earnestly. "For letting me plan for what I really want."

Arthur grinned.

"Take all the time you need," he said, sliding his hands up under Merlin's shirts, running his thumbs over his nipples, feeling them harden as he toyed with them. Merlin shuddered, moaning, and kissed Arthur again, nipping at his bottom lip.

"I want to tie you up," Arthur said, his voice a little raw. Merlin pressed his hands inside the collar of Arthur's shirt.

"Okay," he breathed. Already he felt warm, his skin lighting up wherever Arthur touched him.

"I want you to be sore tomorrow," Arthur said, making Merlin moan against his mouth. "So that when you're sitting here, working, you'll remember what I said."

"God," Merlin murmured. "Please, yes."

Arthur's grin became predatory.

"Get your coat," he said. "And your boots. I'll be waiting."

Merlin fairly flew out of the office into the hall, and Arthur smiled after him, feeling entirely at ease.

Merlin had assumed Arthur meant to use one of the bedrooms in the manor, as they had on other occasions they'd spent the night together in Cavendish. So he wasn't entirely sure what Arthur had in mind, when he'd told him to get his coat and put on his boots.

He didn't much care, if he was being honest.

When they were both bundled up again, Arthur led Merlin out into the cold December night, crunching through the snow down to the outbuilding Arthur had converted into a gym. Merlin had been there a few times before, training with Leon, and also with Gwaine and Arthur. He dipped his head in the collar of his coat, and impulsively, reached for Arthur's hand.

Arthur laced his fingers with Merlin's, smiling at him from behind his glasses.

"Will you keep them on?" Merlin blurted, as they made their way down through the snow. Arthur barked out a laugh. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Merlin could have sworn the request made Arthur blush.

"Well I have to now," Arthur said. "I've taken out my contacts for the night."

Arthur had never fucked him with his glasses on. Merlin thrilled at the idea. He lifted Arthur's hand in his, and kissed the back of it.

Inside the gym they removed their coats and boots at the door, and stepping onto the mats that made up most of the floor, Merlin was surprised to see a portable suspension frame set up in the center of the room.

He stepped ahead of Arthur, ran his hands over the steel bars. It was in the shape of a half dome, with a weighted base. He'd seen one used before at the demonstrations at Excalibur, but he'd never been tied to one. He looked it over. Jumped for the center beam of the frame and grabbed it in his hands. Crossed his legs at his ankles and dropped all of his weight on the hard point. Shook it for good measure. It didn't budge.

He felt the frame tremble, and then Arthur was there, hanging from the hard point with him, nose to nose.

"Satisfied?" Arthur grinned. Merlin grinned back. Dropped to floor and waited for Arthur to do the same.

"Where did you get this?" He asked, laughing. "It's amazing."

"I built it for you," Arthur said.

Merlin was quiet for a moment, looking the frame over. He felt so radiant, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with all the emotion he was feeling all at once.

And then Arthur was behind him, wrapping his arms around Merlin's waist, and saying in his ear,

"Do you want to try it?"

Merlin could barely contain himself. He twisted in Arthur's hold. Kissed him deeply, his hands buried in Arthur's hair.

"Fuck," Merlin groaned, pulling back. "Please, yes. I want to try it."

"Then take off your clothes," Arthur said.

Arthur had removed his suit jacket and tie, was cuffing his shirt sleeves when Merlin was finished and standing in the center of the frame. Arthur moved him forward with his hands on Merlin's waist so that he was standing under one of the cross bars at the front of the frame.

Then, Arthur lowered himself to the floor, and took Merlin into his mouth. Merlin let out a cry, not expecting Arthur to work him up until the rope ties were finished, and gripped the steel frame to keep himself from moving from the spot where Arthur had positioned him.

He bit his lip, tried not make too much noise. If he let himself go now he'd never make it to the end of this. And he wanted, needed Arthur inside of him.

Arthur was generous with his mouth, only pulling back when he was satisfied that Merlin was right on the edge of no return. When he tilted his head up to make sure, Merlin was looking down at him, panting, his blue eyes hazy and warm.

Then Arthur uncoiled his rope. He stood, taking Merlin's hands, and began a handcuff tie on his wrists, making sure the tie was load-bearing before tossing the rope over the forward crossbar, and giving it a sharp tug. Merlin moaned, his arms and shoulders tightening under the strain, as Arthur tied his wrists overhead. They kissed, and Arthur trailed his hand along Merlin's waist, to the small of his back where he positioned himself behind Merlin. Gently, Arthur pulled Merlin backwards, away from the crossbar, until his chest was parallel with the floor, his head bowed between his shoulders, legs wide behind him. The small of his back made a delicate arch that trembled when Arthur touched him. Arthur kissed it, because it was necessary. Merlin groaned.

They were using a suspension frame, but Arthur had other ideas for tonight, so he wasn't picking Merlin up off the floor this time. Instead, he drew Merlin back into a standing distress pose, and tied his thighs to the lower legs of the frame using a basic single column tie. Although the ropes would be taking some of his weight, Merlin's core would have to work hard to hold him up. He ran his hands along Merlin's sides from behind him. Kissed his bent spine.

"Color, Merlin?"

"Green," Merlin said. "So green, please Arthur."

Arthur chuckled, ran his hands up, between Merlin's shoulder blades. Then he removed his belt.

Merlin heard the buckle, gave an involuntary noise in the back of his throat when Arthur folded it in half. He was hard, and his skin was hot and he suddenly need that belt like he needed to breathe.

Arthur struck him across the back of his thigh without warning, and Merlin flinched at the sound. Tipped his head back. Moaned at the ceiling.

Arthur struck him hard, again, and again, until Merlin was a mewling, aching mess under his belt. He ran his hands over Merlin's hot skin, pressed his thumb into one of the darkening bruises. Scratched along the welts.

Merlin groaned, jerking against the ropes, his tailbone dipping toward the floor; legs already shaking.

"These bruises are your reminder, Merlin," Arthur said. "When you sit down at your desk to work for me tomorrow, what will they remind you of?"

Merlin pulled in a breath. "What you said to me tonight."

Arthur hit him again with the belt. Merlin jerked. Cried out.

"What did I say?"

"That...that I'm exceptional," Merlin said, barely getting the words out. He felt the tears on his lashes, his hot cock heavy between his spread legs, aching to be touched.

Arthur hit him again, hard, on the outside of his thigh. Merlin strangled down another cry.

"What else?"

Merlin hunched his head between his shoulders. Pulled in a sob.

"That you trust my judgement."

Arthur hit him again, along the crease between his thigh and his ass. Merlin came up on his toes. He felt the tight coil in his belly beginning to unravel and held on to the ropes, desperately trying to stave the oncoming tide. He couldn't come yet, he couldn't. He wasn't ready. He needed Arthur, the heavy weight of him, hitting all the places inside of him that no one else could touch.

"What _else?_ " Arthur said.

"That no one else can do this job for you!" Merlin sobbed. "Just me!"

Arthur moaned quietly, ran his hands along Merlin's shaking back.

"That's right, Merlin," he said reverently. "Just you."

Merlin cried. He was so grateful and so warm, and he ached in every way that he loved, and Arthur's hands were on him and that was good too.

"Thank you," Merlin said, his breath backing up on him a little. "Thank you, Arthur."

His words lit Arthur up from the inside. He should have been thanking Merlin, because no one had seen him, the way Merlin saw him. No one took so much of him in their wake, without leaving him feeling empty. Merlin was a beautiful impossibility in the structured, organized, calendar of his days and he didn't know anymore how to live without him.

Merlin let Arthur lift his chin, tilt the water bottle to his lips for a swallow. His eyes were blown and glassy. He took another swallow of the water, and Arthur kissed him, still holding his chin.

"That was perfect Merlin," he whispered. "I'm so proud."

Merlin lowered his head. Shuddered when Arthur stepped up behind him again. When Arthur came down on his knees between Merlin's thighs, Merlin was whimpering before Arthur had even touched him.

He gasped out a series of loud, staccato moans when Arthur spread him open. Pressed his tongue inside. When Arthur took hold of his balls, he wasn't gentle, in contrast to his slowly exploring tongue, squeezing Merlin in his fist, pulling down just past the point of comfort.

Merlin _wailed_.

"Oh, fuck," he cried out at the ceiling. "Arthur! Wait, please, I can't...!"

He twisted his torso, trying to close his legs, and Arthur chuckled against his skin, sliding his tongue back inside, massaging Merlin's balls in his hard fist. Giving them a tug. 

"I'm too - ah!" 

Merlin's back bowed when Arthur lapped at his entrance. Eyes rolling up when Arthur slapped his balls. 

"Oh..." he whispered, pressing his forehead into his elbow. "Oh please..."

Arthur slapped him again and every inch of him was a live wire now, his cock ached, and so did his belly and he wanted so much more but if Arthur didn't stop he would come right then and there. 

"I'm too close!" He managed before Arthur slapped him again. His arms were trembling against his face. He moaned. 

Arthur let Merlin go, and he sagged into the ropes, panting, his cock straining, nearly kissing his abdomen, precum beading over his swollen head. Arthur hummed his approval, kissing Merlin's bruises while he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He wanted to feel Merlin's skin when he fucked him. He wanted Merlin to feel it too.

When he slid his fingers inside, Merlin's knees might have buckled if he wasn't tied to the suspension frame.

"I don't want to come yet," Merlin whined. "Please, Arthur I want you inside me."

Arthur smiled radiantly, although Merlin couldn't see it. He went easy on Merlin, choosing not to tease him this time, however tempting that was. Merlin was exquisite, when he was squirming in Arthur's ropes. For now he let Merlin catch his breath. And then, leaning over Merlin's back, dropping some of his weight so the ropes would bite at Merlin's wrists, Arthur pressed the head of his cock inside.

Merlin arched, mouth open to the ceiling in pure ecstasy. He pressed back as far as he was able, trembling as Arthur seated himself, his hips flush to Merlin's bruised ass.

Arthur moaned, took Merlin by the hair, and pulled his cock nearly all the way out.

"Please," Merlin was whimpering now. "Please, Arthur."

Arthur pulled Merlin back by his hair as he thrust back inside, earning a delicious shriek from the man beneath him. He set a punishing pace, fast and hard and as deep as he could go. He felt Merlin tighten around him, knew he'd found the right angle when Merlin's _'Please...!'_ Became a ' _Fuck, yes!'_

Arthur felt it the moment Merlin's spine began to lock up on him, and he never let up his pace. Merlin felt Arthur hard and fast inside of him, relentless and hot and pressing his orgasm closer to the surface with every deepening thrust. And then, like a candle flame going out, Merlin was coming hard, bucking against the ropes, his slackened mouth open in a silent scream, and he let Arthur's thrusts rock him in his rope ties, feeling like he was made of starlight. 

Arthur was so close, chasing his own release, and Merlin was oversensitive and mewling when Arthur finally came, his teeth pressed against Merlin's spine as he buried himself in Merlin's tight heat.

Arthur rested there for a minute, maybe longer, feeling his orgasm shimmering over his aching muscles. Merlin was still moaning incoherently and Arthur smiled against his sweat damp skin before slowly, he pulled out.

Merlin sagged, making pleased, happy sounds as Arthur knelt to untie first his right thigh, then his left, then his hands.

When he was again in front of Merlin, he accepted his dopey smile with a kiss and a laugh.

"Walk yourself forward a little bit," he said affectionately. "I want you upright before I release your hands."

Merlin did as he was told, slowly, his gaze sleepy and content as he followed Arthur's movements to finally let down his arms. They sank to the floor together, Merlin draped over Arthur's shoulder, sitting in his lap. He accepted the orange juice that Arthur passed him. Hummed when Arthur began running his hands through his hair. Kissing his freckled shoulders.

"Can you stand up for me, love?" Arthur murmured. Merlin smiled to himself.

He could do anything, he was sure of it, if it was Arthur who asked it of him.

* * *

Leon was there in the morning to bring him back to his apartment so that he could get a proper shower and a change of clothes. He'd woken briefly at some ungodly hour, six am, maybe, to Arthur kissing him, telling him he was off to work.

Merlin smiled to himself.

"You seem in a good mood," Leon said as he turned down into the city.

"A good shag will do that for you," Merlin said cheerfully. Leon actually choked on his coffee.

"Jesus Christ, Balinor!"

Merlin laughed. He laughed harder, hunching into a ball, when Leon started thumping him with his fist, from across the center consol.

"Sorry..." Merlin was saying. "Sorry! You win!"

Leon eyed him, but Merlin was still laughing.

"Did you have a good day off?" Merlin said after he'd gotten himself under control.

Leon snorted.

"Yeah, I guess. I went to see my brother."

"Oh?" Merlin said. "I didn't know you had a brother."

Leon glanced at him and then back out to the road, a sad smile on his face.

"Yeah," Leon said on an exhale. "He died while I was overseas."

Merlin instantly sobered, but unlike everyone else in his life, Merlin didn't immediately tell him how sorry he was, didn't ask any painful questions. All he said was,

"That must have been hard to do alone."

"Ah," Leon said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "It was time."

Merlin watched him a moment longer before turning his attention out the window. They made the rest of the drive in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

"Come in," Merlin told him, when it looked like he wasn't going to get out of the Charger. "I'll be a minute and I can get you a shirt that isn't covered in coffee."

Leon took hold of Merlin's beanie and yanked it down over his eyes. Then he got out of the car, chuckling a little to himself.

Gwen poked her head out of the kitchen when the two of them came inside. She gave Merlin a hug, and to Leon's surprise, gave him one as well.

"Merlin, these came for you," Gwen told him, waving at a bouquet of flowers that she'd set out on the table. There was a card with them.

Merlin blushed. Leon punched him on the shoulder and laughed when Merlin gave him a look before picking up the card.

On the front there was embossed on the heavy paper, a pair of wire-framed glasses, much like the ones Arthur wore in private. Merlin blushed harder, but he was smiling too. On the other side of the card was just a single letter.

A.

Merlin looked the flowers over. They were beautiful. Dogtooth violets, Irish clover, primroses in full bloom, and, he noted, reaching out to touch the delicate yellow petals.

 _Pabi Cymreig._ Welsh poppies.

Merlin was smiling to himself all the way to his room. As he fished around for a clean outfit and a towel for the shower, he took out his phone and dialed a number. It picked up on the first ring.

"This is Arthur."

"Hello Arthur," Merlin said, taking out his new cable-knit sweater, and his chambray button up. "I've decided what I want to do with you."

"Have you now?"

"Mmmhmm," Merlin said, smiling to himself. "When can I see you next?"

He listened as Arthur moved around his office. Checking his calendar, Merlin thought.

"Why don't we spend Saturday at the estate together? You can have me all day."

Merlin swallowed the hungry sound he'd started to make at the back of his throat. Said instead,

"Saturday then."

"How are you feeling today?" Arthur said.

"Good," Merlin said. "Sore."

He could practically feel Arthur's grin on the other end of the line.

"I'm about to hop in the shower and head back to Cavendish with Leon. But I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful."

"I'm glad," Arthur said gently. "I'll see you on Saturday."

"See you then," Merlin said, and hung up.

For a moment he looked at himself in the mirror over his dresser.

He couldn't seem to stop smiling.

* * *

"We should talk about resigning soon. Have you been called into work?"

Merlin shook his head. He was typing on his laptop, balanced on his knees while Leon drove. He entered a few more keys before closing the computer with a sigh.

"No, I don't think they'll be calling me anytime soon. Gwen says the press are still showing up at the doors and they found a recording device in room seven."

"What?" Leon said. "When was this?"

"I'm not sure," Merlin said. "Gwen only mentioned it recently."

"Merlin," Leon snapped, startling him. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell Gwaine?"

"I was going to tell you," Merlin snapped back. "But I wasn't in the room at the time and I had other things occupying my mind."

"Don't get angry with me, Merlin this is important!"

"You don't think I know that?" Merlin said, his voice a controlled shout in the small cab of the car. "Maybe I just wanted one fucking minute of my life to not be consumed by Sigan's shadow! Or whoever is fucking doing this for a goddamned laugh! I forgot okay? _I'm sorry._ "

The wheel creaked in Leon's grip. He drove in silence, Merlin glaring at the side if his head the whole time, while he counted backwards from twenty. Tried not to escalate the anger in the car coming off of both of them.

"Merlin," he said, trying to be gentle. He knew it wasn't working because Merlin's glare intensified, so he soldiered on. "Room number seven wasn't your room at Excalibur. _I_ know that, and _you_ know that. And a handful of other people know that. But if the room was bugged, that could mean someone knows that you and Arthur met in that room at least one time. Don't you think?"

"Someone who doesn't know the rules..." Merlin added, his tone cooling as he began connecting the dots. "The reporters are familiar with Excalibur by now so...you mean Cedric?"

"Maybe," Leon said, his anger dipping momentarily. "That's why little things like this...they're important to know. It's your job to know what's wrong with the numbers on the books. You decide what details are insignificant right?"

Merlin didn't respond, because he knew where Leon was going. Leon went there anyway.

"That's my job, when it comes to your safety. To _Arthur's_ safety. Understood?"

"Yeah," Merlin said, turning to look out the window. "I understand."

He sounded deflated.

Leon wasn't sure what else to say, so they said nothing, reaching Cavendish in silence. And when Merlin got out of the car before waiting for him to open the door, Leon didn't mention it.

Once he got inside Gwaine opened his mouth to speak when they both heard the door to Merlin's office slam down the hall. Leon closed his eyes.

"What the fuck happened?" Gwaine said.

Percival came around the corner, jerking his thumb down the hall.

"Was that Merlin?" He said, frowning.

"Yeah," Leon said. "We need to talk."

* * *

Merlin sat at his desk with his hands buried in his hair, his thoughts all jumbled up in his head. He was worried. Couldn't everyone see he was always worried? Why couldn't he just have today, when Arthur kissed him in the morning, told him he was off to work while it was still dark. Left flowers for him on a sunny kitchen table. Told him he was exceptional.

Just _one_ normal fucking day.

He pressed his palms into his eyes. Then he picked up his phone, aware his hands were shaking as he dialed. He held the phone to his ear. Covered his eyes with his free hand.

"Merlin?"

He pulled in a breath.

"Hi," he said, but it came out breathy and nearly inaudible even to him. He tried again but it wasn't much better.

"Mum?" He said.

Hunith stopped what she was doing on the other end of the line. Merlin could hear the sound of her paint brushes dropping into the cup she kept on her easel.

"Merlin love, what's wrong?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice," he said quietly. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"It's alright," she said gently. "You know you can call me anytime."

He was trying so hard not to cry it was a physical pain in his chest. It seemed like he was always crying, these days.

"I think I might be in trouble," he said quietly.

"What kind of trouble?" She said seriously. Hunith was not a woman who easily folded under pressure. He wished he'd inherited her fortitude.

"I don't know," he said around a sob. "Maybe like before."

"Like with Sigan?"

Merlin flinched. Unable to stop the tears now, he didn't.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I was trying so hard..."

He couldn't finish. He was was going to drown he was sure of it.

"Trying so hard to do what, my love?" Hunith asked in her warm, soft voice.

"I started working at an office," he said around his tears. "I met someone I really like. I was working with Gaius to finish my degree."

"And now?" She prompted.

"Now it feels like no matter what I do it's just slipping through my fingers," he cried, trying to be quiet. Afraid the others in the manor would hear him. "I can't hold on to any of it."

"Do you still have your new job?" She asked him.

Merlin wiped his face on his sleeve.

"Yes."

"And this person you like, do they like you too?"

"Yes," Merlin said, still trying to get a hold of himself. "I think so. He sent me flowers this morning."

"And is Gaius still working with you?"

"Yes," he said, pressing his fingers against his eyes as if that would stop the tears.

"It sounds like you've found quite a lot, my love. It doesn't sound to me like you've lost anything."

Merlin had to put his head down on his desk. Cried for a moment longer.

"They're writing about me in the tabloids again," he said. He'd called his mother impulsively, but now that he could hear her, he wasn't able to bring himself to tell her the whole truth. He couldn't bear to worry her. To tell her that someone might be stalking him, someone who sent threatening text messages and compromising photos to him. Someone who knew about Sigan.

"I don't know how to leave it behind me," he admitted.

Hunith was quiet for a long time while Merlin slowed the tears. Managed to take a breath without crying harder.

"Everyone makes mistakes Merlin," she said quietly. "And you've made many, as I have. But Sigan wasn't your fault."

"It feels like it," he whispered.

"It wasn't."

The silence that followed was charged. Merlin wanted to believe her. But he didn't know how.

"Your special someone," Hunith said. "Tell me about him. Do I know him?"

Merlin smiled at his desk. His eyes were closed and his cheeks were sticky and hot. But something inside him turned to sunlight, when he thought of Arthur.

"No," Merlin said quietly. "But I think you'd like him."

"Does he like tea?" She said mischievously.

Merlin laughed, finally able to sit up. To wipe his face off properly.

"As a matter-of-fact," he said. "He does."

He could hear her smile from the other end of the phone. He was smiling back fondly, despite himself.

"I'll send you some then," she told him cheerfully.

"He likes your sea nettle and salt blend," he said.

"A man of sophisticated tastes, I like him already," she said. "Was this the friend I painted a new label for?"

Merlin laughed a little sheepishly.

"Uh...yeah, that's the one," he admitted.

"And you're happy, my love?"

"He makes me happy," Merlin said, answering the question she wouldn't ask out loud. "I am."

Hunith hummed by way of reply.

"You deserve to be happy, Merlin. There's nothing, I'm sure of it, that you are not worthy of."

Merlin closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

"Thanks, mum."

"I love you, Merlin," she said. He smiled.

"I love you too."

* * *

Leon knocked softly on Merlin's office door. He waited a beat before opening it, even though Merlin hadn't said he could come in. He leaned in the door, and Merlin was sitting at his desk, pretending to type.

It was clear he'd been crying.

Leon entered, carrying a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits with him.

Merlin glanced up as he approached and then turned away, pulling his sleeve down over his fist and wiping his face.

"Don't do that," Merlin said as he set the tea down on Merlin's desk. "You don't have to do that."

Leon sat gingerly in the chair by Merlin's desk.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," Merlin said. "I was upset with myself. Don't apologize."

"Well I am," Leon said. He reached out and took Merlin's hands. Wrapped them around the hot cup.

Merlin made a soft noise when he did, but didn't take his hands off the cup.

"I called Gwen. She gave us what we needed so we don't have to talk about it."

Merlin glanced at him. Back down to his tea.

"Thanks," he said.

Leon let out a breath.

"We still need to talk about resigning from Excalibur," Leon added gently. "When you're up for it."

Merlin ran a hand across his forehead, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, no. Let's just go down there first thing Monday morning. Good?"

"Okay," Leon said.

When Merlin opened his eyes, he wasn't exactly sure what to make of the look that Leon was giving him. He looked sad, and concerned, and Merlin frowned, sitting up a little straighter.

"Was there something else?"

Leon shook his head. Started to stand.

"No, sorry. I'll let you get back to work."

Merlin watched him go, holding on to the hot tea. He wasn't sure what to feel just then. He didn't like the idea of Leon pitying him. He didn't want anyone's pity.

He sipped his tea, grateful for the warm mug in his hands; pressed it against his face as he reorganized his thoughts. He had work to do.

He pulled out the tape recorder he'd used when he was talking with Percival the other day. Backed up the file, and then hit play.

Merlin leaned back in his chair, sipped his tea and listened.

It was all he could do, for now. Just to listen.

* * *

Friday passed quickly. Merlin spent the night out with Gwen, testing the waters since he'd been entirely absent from Excalibur now for weeks. She put her gloved hand in his arm as they walked, searching for a pub or a late night cafe to duck into. So far no one had cat-called him from a trolly window, so he considered the night a win. 

"You've been quiet," Gwen said, as they crossed the street at a leisurely pace. "Everything okay?"

Merlin smiled gently.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just had a bit of a row with Leon. Called mum. I feel kind of drained."

Gwen leaned her head on his arm as they walked.

"How's your mum?"

"She sounds good. I have to admit I monopolized the call a bit so I'm not exactly sure what she's up to. She said she'd send more tea."

"How are you?"

Merlin glanced at her, then back to the sidewalk.

"I'm alright," he said, not convincingly. "Just a lot on my mind."

"How about this one?" Gwen tugged on his arm. It was a small coffee house with a fireplace and some free tables in the big glass front windows. Merlin smiled.

"I love it, let's get something hot to drink, I'm freezing."

"You're always freezing." Gwen laughed. "Oh look!"

Merlin turned back to Gwen, holding the door open for her. She was pointing at a poster in the window.

He leaned back out and glanced at it.

It was a poster for The Nutcracker Ballet.

"That's for tonight isn't it?" He said, looking the poster over, letting the cafe door fall shut.

"Shoot," Gwen said, frowning. "You're right. I haven't seen it in ages. Would have been nice to go."

Merlin looked at Gwen's face, and she was still reading the poster, so she didn't notice the way his gaze softened when he looked at her. Then, he checked his watch.

"We can make it if we run," he said.

Gwen and he stared at each other. Warm brown and glacial blue. And then Gwen's face split into a radiant smile, and the two of them took off down the sidewalk.

They were weaving in and out of holiday shoppers, laughing as Merlin pulled out his phone.

"Hello, yes? Do you have any tickets left for the ballet tonight?"

Gwen dodged a couple on the edge of the sidewalk, skipping into the road for a few steps before running back up onto the sidewalk. Merlin reached out his hand and she took it, Merlin grinning as he looked over his shoulder at her, and she grinned back, letting him pull her along through the crowds, their footfalls hitting the sidewalk in time with one another's.

"Two!" Merlin crowed into the phone. "Yes, that's great! We're on our way, thank you!"

"Merlin you nutter!" Gwen called out happily, her free hand holding her hat on her head.

"Hurry up," Merlin teased, dropping his phone into his coat pocket. "Or we'll miss the opening curtain!"

"Not all of us have giraffe legs!" She shot back.

"Giraffe legs?" Merlin mouthed at her looking utterly confused.

She threw back her head and laughed.

They made it to the call desk with ten minutes to spare, sweating despite the cold, dressed a little too casually, and still breathless with laughter. Still holding hands.

The desk clerk smiled at them while Merlin paid for their tickets, and they quieted themselves as they made their way to their seats.

"Thank you," Gwen said as the lights were beginning to dim, and they'd found their seats. "I'll get drinks at intermission."

Merlin kissed her on the cheek before taking off his coat.

Tomorrow he would be spending the entire day at the Estate and he could put this whole rotten week behind him. For now, being here with Gwen, seeing a ballet of all things, gave Merlin hope.

Good things still happened.

He would believe in the good things, for as long as he could. Things like his mother, and Leon putting his hands on a hot mug of tea, and Arthur calling him exceptional, and the way Gwen's face lit up when the first ballerina crossed the stage.

Sigan scared him still. Made him worry, every day since this whole rubbish situation had began. But Sigan couldn't have this part of him. He couldn't have the days when Merlin was able to run down the streets of London with his best friend, or when there were Welsh Poppies waiting for him on his kitchen table.

_It sounds like you've found quite a lot, my love. It doesn't sound to me like you've lost anything._

He couldn't have them.

He couldn't.


	24. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is nervous about spending the entire day with Arthur at the Estate. Leon helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay and thank you all for your wonderful comments! They make me so happy, they really do. I have the most amazing readers. And thank you to everyone who pointed out some edits for me in previous chapters 🙏 I really appreciate you! 
> 
> This chapter has been building up in my head for so long I can't believe we've made it this far! What does Merlin want to do with Arthur? Hopefully you all will be happy with the answer 💋

* * *

Leon picked Merlin up early on Saturday, driving slowly through the snow and the slush on the road. Merlin was staring out of the passenger window, his bag in his lap, bouncing his leg.

Leon glanced at him. Gave it another minute before he reached over, putting his palm flat on Merlin's knee. Merlin looked at him sheepishly. Crossed his legs at the ankle instead.

"Sorry," he said.

"A lot on your mind?"

Merlin didn't respond right away. Leon lifted an eyebrow, checking his rear view before changing lanes.

"Nervous, I guess."

Leon snorted. "For _what_?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, shooting Leon a dead-eyed glare.

"Don't be obtuse," he said.

"Obtuse!" Leon crowed. "Merlin, what in the world do you have to be nervous about? I know it's not your first time."

Merlin punched him in the arm. Hard.

"Jeez, okay, okay," Leon said, chuckling. "I'm sorry."

"I'm...today is different. We haven't done anything like this before."

"What, spend the whole day together?"

"Well, yeah," Merlin shrugged. "We've spent long periods of time together before but it's always been broken up by work or meetings or whatever else."

"Okay?" Leon prompted.

"What if I'm boring?"

Leon almost laughed. Then he realized that Merlin was being serious.

"Merlin...I'm not your boyfriend, but I can say in all seriousness, boring, is not a word any of us would use to describe you. Least of all Arthur."

"Thanks, Leon," Merlin said, quietly, without looking at him.

Leon frowned.

"This is really bothering you, isn't it?"

Merlin shrugged.

"Is that all that's bothering you?"

Merlin huffed, surprised once again at how clearly Leon saw him. Both grateful for him, and a little unnerved.

"I want to ask Arthur something important tonight."

"And you think...what, he won't hear it if you're a boring date?"

Merlin shot him a look. Leon lifted a hand.

"Sorry, sorry. That came out harsh."

"Well you aren't wrong," Merlin said.

Leon's eyebrows lifted at that. He wasn't immediately sure how to respond. Merlin, despite his concerns and his anxiety about the press and his current arrangement with Arthur, had always seemed very steady to Leon. He'd never complained about the security measures in place. He'd never complained that he and Arthur weren't in a place where they could do normal things like going out to dinner or get drinks together, even though it would have been understandable to do so. He'd always taken all of that on the chin. But today Merlin looked a little defeated to Leon. Like he'd run out of ideas.

"Alright Balinor," Leon said, turning the car away from the Estate. "We're taking a detour."

"What?" Merlin said, sitting up straighter in his seat. "Where? I told Arthur I'd be over by nine."

"Yeah well, tell him I kidnapped you. We're going into town."

"For what?" Merlin said.

Leon grinned.

"To plan a date."

* * *

Arthur was a little surprised by the text he received just before he'd expected Merlin to arrive. But it made him smile all the same.

> I've been kidnapped by your security and am being held hostage in town. I'll be by as soon as I can 🙄

He was headed down the stairs when Gwaine rounded the corner with Percival.

"Oy," he called, making Arthur look up from his phone. "Leon just texted, he said - "

"Yeah," Arthur chuckled. "Merlin messaged too."

Gwaine nodded, smiling a little.

"They're a funny pair, aren't they?"

"Almost as cute as you two are," Percival said, wiggling his eyebrows at Arthur.

Arthur snorted, and then, passing him, punched Percival in the ribs.

The bigger man winced, hopping back with a laugh as Arthur continued down the hall with a wave over his shoulder.

Gwaine threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

When Merlin and Leon finally arrived at the Estate, Merlin was arguably more nervous than he had been when Leon picked him up.

"Don't be nervous," Leon said as they pulled up the long drive. "You're a smart guy. You'll figure it out."

"I know this may come as a shock to you Leon," Merlin deadpanned. "But I haven't had many occasions to go on very many dates."

He didn't say it. But that actually _did_ surprise him. Instead what he said was,

"A good date isn't about the where or the how, Merlin. It's about the who and the why. It's you and Arthur. That's what counts. Everything else is white noise."

Merlin let out a long breath he seemed to have been holding. Appeared to relax for the first time since they'd gotten in the car.

"Thanks Leon," he said. And this time he sounded sure.

Leon opened his door for him, and they walked into the Estate together. Merlin had texted Arthur once they were officially on their way, and Arthur had told him he would be upstairs when he arrived. So after taking off his shoes and hanging up his coat, Merlin headed up the stairs with his bag. Leon gave him a thumbs up. Merlin blushed and then rolled his eyes.

As he made his way to the top of the grand staircase, his socks sinking into the plush carpet at the top landing and down the hall, Merlin had to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans. Today he was in a pair of black skinny denim trousers, his favorite pair, the ones he thought he looked best in. And by Gwen's recommendation, an outfit reminiscent of the one he'd worn to Excalibur when he'd gotten there too late to change.

 _"You said he liked the boots,"_ Gwen had said. _"Do something like that."_

He'd gone with a grey tshirt that had a red block cut out of the Periodic Table of Elements. Inside the block were the letters 'Ah'. Over which he had layered an off-white hoodie and a red and blue flannel.

He tried not to fidget as he knocked on Arthur's bedroom door.

And then Arthur was there, and the look on his face was radiant, and Merlin forgot to be nervous, because that was a look Arthur only gave to him, and it lit him up from the inside out.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, Arthur's smile infectious.

"Come here so I can kiss you," was Arthur's response.

Merlin stepped inside and set his bag down. Let Arthur pull him in by his cheeks and kiss him indulgently. When they'd both come up for air, Merlin hugged Arthur. Rested there a moment with his forehead against Arthur's throat.

"Good morning," Arthur said.

"Good morning," Merlin answered, smiling against Arthur's skin.

"You look nice today," Arthur said, pulling back to appraise Merlin's outfit. "What element is 'Ah'?"

"The element of surprise," Merlin said seriously.

There was a pause.

Arthur snorted before, unable to contain it, he laughed, hard, into Merlin's chest.

Merlin grinned, ridiculously pleased with himself.

Arthur was in a wine red t-shirt and joggers, his glasses on instead of his contacts. Merlin had only seen him dress this casually one other time, on the night that Arthur had come to stay at his apartment after he'd dropped on the stage at Excalibur. As he had when he'd first seen Arthur's glasses, Merlin had a moment to think that he must be one of the very few people Arthur had ever worn sweatpants in front of. It was a stupid thing to make a person happy. But it made Merlin happy all the same.

When Arthur had gotten a hold of himself, he kissed Merlin again, because it was necessary. Because he could. And then said,

"You are certainly full of surprises, Merlin."

"Just another part of my charm," Merlin grinned.

"So what do you want to do today?" Arthur said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"Actually," Merlin said, feeling his nerves prickle against his skin just a little. "I picked up some things, if you're up for something lazy this morning."

Arthur smiled.

"I like lazy," he said honestly. Merlin smiled back.

"Okay," he said.

Arthur led him down into the recessed area of his bedroom, the part that had a couch and a television, and not the raised section of his room that had his four poster bed. Merlin set his bag carefully on the floor and knelt to open it while Arthur took a seat on the couch, watching him with interest.

Merlin lifted a box out of his bag, wrapped in bakers paper and string, a tin of his mother's dessert tea, _The Three Toffees_ (his personal favorite), and a DVD, which he slid across the table to Arthur.

He picked it up, and smiled.

"Howl's Moving Castle?"

Merlin smiled back a little nervously.

"Yeah, but it's kind of silly, so we can pick a different one if you want, I just thought - "

He stopped abruptly when Arthur put a finger under his chin, gently closing his mouth.

"I want to watch it," he said. "I've been curious ever since you mentioned it on our phone call while I was in Canada."

Merlin blushed harder, if possible.

"What's in the box?" Arthur said, leaning back into the couch, still holding the DVD in his lap.

Merlin began unwrapping the paper and the string, using his teeth to pull his sleeves back as he went.

He and Arthur hadn't had much occasion to eat dessert together, but he'd wagered a guess based on Arthur's love for his mother's sea nettle and salt tea. Inside was a banoffee pie made with black tea and milk. Something decedent with a tapered sweetness to it. The bananas and toffee had a breakfast quality to them, and they were on a date after all. Dessert for breakfast seemed like the perfect way to start.

Arthur laughed.

"That looks amazing," he said. "I haven't had pie in ages, is it banoffee?"

Merlin nodded with a smile. "You like it?"

"Yes," Arthur said standing. "I'll get some hot water. Tell me about this next magical tea you've brought me."

Merlin felt miles high.

The tea was a rich golden color that tasted of coffee, toffee, and cream. On the front his mother had painted a carousel in red stripes and balloons drifting upwards against a robin's egg blue sky. He told Arthur as much.

Arthur smiled at him as he plugged in his electric kettle.

They chatted as they set up for the movie, Merlin pouring over the tea while Arthur set up the DVD player and started the film. Merlin made fun of him for being an old man when Arthur initially struggled with the set up. Arthur threw a pillow at him.

By the time the movie was over, Merlin was laying on top of Arthur where they had both sprawled along the length of the couch, Arthur propped up against the arm of the couch with one of his hands behind his head, the other hand absently running through Merlin's hair. They'd each had at least two cups of his mum's tea, and what was left was cooling among the wreckage of the pie in the box. Merlin was certain they'd eaten two-thirds of it, and he wasn't in the least bit sorry they did.

Arthur had asked him for the name of the bakery that made it. He'd heard of banoffee made with coffee before but the black tea and milk was a big hit. Arthur had insisted Merlin let him kiss the whipped cream off his face.

Merlin smiled thinking about it.

On the screen, there were fields of grass and falling stars and a fire demon in the hands of a young boy.

And when it was over, Merlin was falling asleep on Arthur's chest, so Arthur let him, turning off the television and setting his glasses down on the coffee table. There was never a time when he wasn't in the mood to lay down with Merlin. To do nothing but embrace and be embraced.

Arthur fell asleep, still running his hands through Merlin's hair, thinking of carousels and magic spells and stars that grant people power.

* * *

Merlin woke feeling warm, and shook out his watch to check the time. It was early afternoon, they'd only been asleep for an hour or so, and for a moment he considered taking the easy way out and letting their cat nap drag on. Instead he wormed his way up to Arthur's face and began pressing kisses his his jaw, his cheeks. His brow.

Arthur smiled but didn't open his eyes.

"Hello, love," he said.

"Hello Arthur," Merlin answered, resting his chin on the backs of his hands, laying once again on Arthur's chest.

"Did you like the movie?"

Arthur rubbed his eyes, looked down at Merlin affectionately.

"I have to admit I was a little skeptical when you said it was animated," Arthur said, brushing Merlin's curls back behind his ears. They didn't stay. "But it was very good."

Merlin smiled. Then he said,

"I've decided what I want."

Arthur chuckled a little, sitting up, making Merlin take the seat next to him. When they'd properly untangled themselves and Arthur had put on his glasses again. He turned to Merlin, sleep mussed hair falling in his blue eyes.

"Alright," he said playfully. "Let's hear it then."

Merlin swallowed hard. If he dwelled on it any longer he would never say it.

"Come to Christmas in Armagh with me," he said in a rush.

Arthur's eyes widened a fraction. A silence stretched in the moments that followed. For one terrifying heartbeat after another, Merlin thought he might have made a terrible mistake.

"At your family's home?" Arthur said at last.

"It's just me and mum," Merlin clarified.

Arthur was silent again.

Merlin looked down at his lap.

"I know holidays are busy for everyone, if you have other plans I completely understand. I just thought if you didn't then maybe you'd...like to spend it with me." He finished quietly, aware he was rambling.

"I'd love to spend Christmas with you," Arthur said. "I need to talk to Gwaine. Usually I give the team time on the holidays, but if we're going to Ireland, I'd prefer it if at least one of them goes with us."

Merlin nodded, when the words sank in. He looked up, his eyes wide.

"So...you'll come?"

Arthur laughed.

"Yes, Merlin. I'll come to Armagh for Christmas with you. I'm sorry if I worried you. You just surprised me, that's all."

Merlin threw his arms around Arthur's shoulders, laughed in relief as he kissed him, transferring his seat to Arthur's lap.

"You'll love it," Merlin breathed, still engrossed with kissing Arthur as he spoke. "Have you ever been?"

"No," Arthur admitted, kissing Merlin back as best he could. "My sister Morganna went to Trinity College when we were teens. But I never visited her."

"Is there anything you want to see?" Merlin said, pulling back to look Arthur in the face. It was Arthur's turn to kiss Merlin, to run his thumbs along his brow to smooth out his concentration.

"Let's talk to Gwaine first," he laughed, bouyed by Merlin's excitement. "Then I will take all of your recommendations."

Merlin grinned.

"There's quite a bit," he warned.

"I believe it," Arthur said.

Merlin cupped Arthur's face in his hands. Leaned back a little to look at him.

"Thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me yet," Arthur said, standing up and lifting Merlin with him as he went, making Merlin yelp. "You've fed me dessert for breakfast and toffee tea and given me an early Christmas present..."

Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur's waist as he carried him up to the four poster bed.

"I'm full of energy now," Arthur said against Merlin's ear, making him shudder. "You've gotten me all worked up."

Merlin's smile was a slow, seductive thing. Arthur smirked, showing his teeth.

"And we should really see how your bruises are fairing, don't you think?"

Merlin moaned, wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck. Burying his face into the space below Arthur's ear. He could already feel the heady ache in the cradle of his hips, the precursor to the burn of arousel, start a slow pulse in his abdomen. Begging to be indulged with hands and lips and tongues.

"Yes, Arthur," he breathed, tilting his head back. Letting Arthur slide a hand up his shirt, brush a thumb along his ribs.

"That was very good Merlin," Arthur said against his throat, and Merlin felt like the demon stars from the Ghibli movie, exploding into bright lights and colors as Arthur released him to fall back onto the bed.

* * *

Merlin shuddered as Arthur worked him back up slowly. He was a mess by the time Arthur was ready for him. They had both been quiet for so long, that when Merlin spoke, Arthur, startled, took his hand off of him without thinking. 

"Arthur," Merlin said, a little breathless. "Arthur wait, please."

He put a hand on the small of Merlin's back, felt the tremors there. He checked the upline, the hip harness and the ropes around Merlin's thighs. When he reached for Merlin's hands he squeezed back without being told. Arthur smiled. Leaned over him and kissed his hand. 

"You were told not to speak, love." Arthur chided, but it was hollow. His voice was low and intimate. "What is it?"

"I want to come with you inside me," he said. "I want to touch you."

Arthur had to swallow hard at the statement, run his thumbs in soothing circles against the back of Merlin's hips just for something to do. 

"Please," Merlin whispered. "Arthur, please."

Arthur closed his eyes. Went from half-hard to absolutely straining so quickly it made him dizzy. He moaned. Merlin stirred beneath his hand. 

"Alright, love." He whispered back. "Take a deep breath, I'm going to let you down."

Merlin wasn't really suspended, but the upline was supporting much of his body weight in a distress pose. Arthur let him take the weight back on his knees slowly, taking hold of the ties to his biceps with one hand, keeping the upline taut in the other. He tugged Merlin upright, until he could sit back on his heels and then began removing the carabeeners from his ties. 

Merlin breathed deep, settling as Arthur began untying his biceps and wrists. The ropes scattered on the floor as Arthur flung them away, keeping Merlin's wrists held behind him as he massaged the rope burns with his thumbs. Merlin arched a little with a hiss, let out a small whimper when Arthur still hadn't moved. 

Arthur smiled, kissed the space between his shoulder blades. And then pressed Merlin's palms together. 

"Link your fingers."

"But..."

"Link. Your. Fingers."

Merlin shuddered, suppressed a moan and did what he was told. Arthur spent a moment then, massaging Merlin's shoulders, his arms, pressing his lips to every inch of bare skin he could reach. 

When Arthur stood and stepped in front of him, Merlin looked disappointed. Arthur had to work not to smile. 

"Help me undress, love," Arthur said gently. "You can use your hands."

Merlin glanced up at him, his blue eyes warming. Then he reached for him and wrapped his long hands around Arthur's thighs, and urged him closer. 

Arthur ran his hands through Merlin's hair as he nuzzled the hard line of Arthur's cock inside his joggers, massaged the backs of his thighs. He took his time pulling them down, and Arthur used his shoulders to step out of them. Merlin folded them and set them aside. Next were his boxers, and when Arthur was finally bare, he sat down on the floor his knees touching Merlin's. 

"Hands on my shoulders," Arthur said, gripping the ties on Merlin's hip harness that bound his thighs to his ankles. Merlin moaned, sliding his hands up over Arthur's shoulders. Arthur lifted him. 

Merlin pressed them together, his bound legs on either side of Arthur's lap. He inched himself up and forward, until he was positioned over Arthur. The blonde groaned when Merlin sank onto his length, seating himself to the root. Arthur gripped Merlin's hips to still him, Merlin's fingers were digging into the wings of his shoulder blades. Both of them were panting. 

Something about this time felt different to Arthur. His affection for Merlin filling his chest like an overinflated balloon. He kissed Merlin, and they worked at each other's mouths with care, heads tilting, memorizing the shapes of their lips as though they were saying goodbye. Arthur's breath stuttered against Merlin's tongue when Merlin began to rock against him, and they continued kissing as Arthur took hold of the ropes marking up the pale thighs, and started to move. Merlin gasped, moaning in earnest as Arthur pressed harder inside of him, picking up the pace slowly until the only sound between them was the slide of bare skin and short staccato breaths. Merlin cradled Arthur's head in his arms, one hand threaded through the blonde hair, his face pressed into Arthur's sweat damp neck. And just when Arthur felt himself beginning to unravel, Merlin's fingers dug into his shoulder, and he gave a sudden cry, his entire body tightening around Arthur's. Arthur came suddenly, his head dropping back, still moving through it. And Merlin shuddered, rocking down on him, until they were both spent. 

Arthur breathed deeply against Merlin's skin for a long time afterward, drawing circles over the pale shoulders, before he reached for the ties on Merlin's thighs. He loosened them slowly without looking, Merlin still holding him, his long arms wrapped around Arthur's neck. 

Even after the ties had fallen away, neither of them moved. Merlin was breathing softly, but he wasn't sleeping - Arthur could tell without looking at him. But he was so relaxed and warm and pliable, that he might have been. Arthur wanted to kiss him. 

He did. Slow and deep until Merlin moaned into his mouth and Arthur spent the next few minutes swallowing every one he could get. 

Merlin nipped playfully at Arthur's lips, let Arthur smooth back his sweaty bangs. He thought of Christmas in Ireland, of Arthur laying in his bed in his mother's home, and his happiness was a tangible energy that warmed his skin to an attractive flush across his high cheekbones, his nose. 

"How are you feeling?" Merlin whispered. "Have you worked off your sugar rush?"

Arthur laughed breathlessly, fingers tracing Merlin's spine, his shoulders, the back of his neck. 

"For now," he whispered back, kissing Merlin again. "For now."

* * *

Back at the apartment, Gwen heard her phone ringing in the other room, and hurried over to pick it up without checking the caller I.D. 

She had been in the shower and was just toweling off her hair when she lifted the phone to her ear and said,

"This is Gwen."

"Hello Gwenevere," Lancelot said. 

The shock she felt was melted instantly by the sound of his voice. He sounded just like she remembered him, warm and deep and gentle with her. It took her a moment to respond. When she did, she sounded as Lancelot had; relieved and a little sad. 

"Hello Lance," she said. "How have you been?"

"I'm doing alright," he said. "I got an unexpected call this past week from someone named Gwaine."

"Yes," she said. "I told him to tell you I sent him."

"He did," Lancelot confirmed. "I just wanted to be sure before I reached back out." 

"I appreciate that," she replied honestly. "He's a friend."

The silence stretched on between them. Gwen gripped the phone a little harder. 

"Sorry," Lancelot said then, as if realizing that they weren't actually speaking. "This must be hard for you."

"It's not hard for you?" She asked gently. 

"It is," he said. 

Another long silence. 

"Before I call your friend back, do you mind if I ask you some questions?" He said finally, falling back on professionalism as was his way when he was uncomfortable. It relieved her. 

"Sure," she said. "Whatever you need."

"Okay," he breathed. She heard him shuffling around on the other end of the phone. Opening a notebook. Uncapping a pen. "Just...you and Merlin...you're safe? You're alright?"

She smiled sadly to herself. 

"We're alright," she confirmed. Heard him breathe out into the phone. "But Merlin's in trouble. We need your help." 

At that, Gwen could feel the change in Lancelot's attitude. She imagined the way his dark brows would be lowered over his expressive brown eyes. How the corners of his full lips would turn down. How his shoulders would straighten against the back of his chair. 

"Tell me everything," he said. 

She did. 


	25. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin continue their day at the Pendragon Estate and find something unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this chapter with a special preview at the end for my new upcoming work, Someone You Used to Love. 
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

* * *

After they'd showered and had a late lunch, Merlin and Arthur had settled comfortably into the front room of the Estate, just generally lounging around. Arthur had set the fire in the fireplace, and Merlin was laying on his back on the couch, his head in Arthur's lap, his tape recorder on his chest and a notebook propped up on his bent knees. He was idly munching on a piece of toast while he listened to the tape he'd made of Percival answering his questions about the cameras on the plane and the aircraft itself and anything else he could think of to ask. He was in a heavy oversized sweatshirt and a pair of gym shorts and thick woolen socks he'd stolen from Arthur's dresser.

Arthur was sitting with his bad leg propped up on the coffee table, a cup of tea balanced precariously on his thigh. He was watching a football match, back in his sweats and a tshirt, and he was still wearing his glasses.

"It wasn't the model T rig," Arthur said absently, his gaze never leaving the television.

Merlin blinked, looking upside-down at him.

"Huh?"

Arthur glanced at him and taped the tape recorder with a finger, where Percival's voice was still speaking.

"He said that tail was carrying the model T rig. It was supposed to be, but we had it outfitted for an experimental camera system. It was one of four tails with the new camera on it."

Merlin looked back down at his notes, turning the tape recorder off. He was frowning a little, lost in thought.

"What was the camera rig called?"

"Nim U3," Arthur said. "My father decommissioned it before he passed. It didn't do what it was built to do, but it didn't do any worse, so we haven't gotten around to uninstalling the cameras and the mounts. It's more cost effective to keep the plane in the air."

Suddenly, Merlin bolted up from the couch, the tape recorder clattering to the floor, along with Arthur's tea cup, shattering across the beautiful wood floor.

"Merlin! What...?"

But Merlin was already scrambling for the hall, yelling over his shoulder.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! One second!" As he bolted for the offices.

Arthur was right behind him.

Merlin burst into the security room, panting a little, startling Gwaine and Elyan who were sitting at the desk.

"Can I use your computer?!" Merlin said, a little hysterically.

Gwaine was rising from his seat with a concerned look on his face. Elyan stood immediately when Arthur came swinging into the room, nearly crashing right into Merlin.

"Sure, Merlin, what's going...?"

Elyan trailed off as Merlin surged past him, not bothering with the chair he had vacated, and began calling up windows on the screen, leaning over the desk. He pulled up the secure portal he used at Cavendish, entered his passcodes and opened his files remotely.

Gwaine looked at Arthur but he was staring intently at Merlin. No one mentioned the tea dripping off of Arthur's hand.

Merlin entered the camera into his search protocol. Hit the return key. A flood of documents poured onto the screen but Merlin was already typing again, pulling up the find function and entering a new set of commands.

Gwaine and Elyan leaned closer involuntarily as the documents began to separate, highlighting the information that Merlin was searching for.

Arthur was ramrod straight, all his attention focused on Merlin.

Merlin was counting. It was so silent in the office they could all hear him, running numbers under his breath by memory, comparing them to the ones he saw on the screen.

"That's it!" He shouted suddenly, slapping the desk. Everyone jumped, even Arthur.

"This is how they're doing it!" Merlin said, turning to look over his shoulder with a grin so bright it could have outshined the sun. Arthur's eyes widened.

"They're using the decommissioned camera model to transfer the money - each camera rig has it's own computer in the plane with the photography equipment!" Merlin said excitedly.

"And each camera has it's own code," Elyan said quietly, looking at the documents over Merlin's shoulder.

"Every time one of these planes flies for you," Merlin said breathlessly, standing to step closer to Arthur. "You lose money forty-eight hours after it completes a sortie."

Arthur was staring at Merlin, still in shock, but he straightened his shoulders, said,

"You're sure?"

"I'll have to run the numbers into a document you can take to your legal team but yes!" He laughed a little. "Yes I'm sure!"

Gwaine suddenly grabbed Merlin into a headlock. Kissed him on the top of his head.

"Merlin!" He crowed. "You're a genius!"

Merlin laughed, accepting the hug.

Across the room, Arthur had yet to react. He was staring at the computer screen but he hadn't approached it to take a closer look for himself.

"Who?" He said, very quietly.

Merlin straightened, his smile falling some. Gwaine let him go, and Elyan stepped back from the monitor to look at Arthur.

"The person who installed the software on that camera," Merlin said gently. "Julias Borden. Although...he's most likely not doing it on his own."

They were all quiet, waiting for Arthur to do something, to say something. He seemed lost in thought.

"Julias Borden," he said finally.

Merlin waited, Elyan and Gwaine looking on over his shoulder. The room felt charged. Merlin had the distinct impression they were all holding their breath. All of them, except Arthur.

"Gwaine, Elyan," he said finally. "I need to speak with Merlin. Track down Julias for me and make sure he stays put. And I'll need Percival, when he's available."

The two of them nodded, passing Arthur out of the room, both of them grinning. Gwaine clapped Arthur on the shoulder and then winking at Merlin, closed the door as he and Elyan left.

Merlin waited as Arthur crossed the empty office to him. Cupped his face in his hands.

"How do you do it?" Arthur said quietly, reverently. Merlin smiled, a little confused, Arthur's hands warm on his cheeks.

"Do what?"

"Walk around with all this brilliance under your skin. How is it you haven't blinded anyone yet?"

Merlin laughed, unsure, as always, of what to do with Arthur's compliments. His profound sincerity.

"Thank you Merlin," Arthur said.

Merlin had to glance away, at his hands, the floor...anywhere but Arthur's eyes. He still wasn't sure if he was worthy of all this praise.

"You're welcome," he whispered. "But that was the easy part. Now we have to find the money."

Arthur smiled, and it was radiant.

"I don't want to worry about that tonight. I don't want you to, either. We're still on a date, after all."

Merlin laughed, reaching out finally, to close his long arms around Arthur's waist.

"Spreadsheets and Geospatial engineering not doing it for you?" Merlin grinned.

"I'm fairly certain I'd be satisfied listening to you explain how the minimal surface equation works."

Merlin barked out a laugh, surprised.

"I had no idea you were interested in the nature of soap bubbles."

"I'm interested in _you_ ," Arthur clarified softly.

Merlin sobered a little. He felt suddenly like he and Arthur were standing on the edge of a still lake; in front of them was the sun, behind them only water.

But Merlin had never felt this way about anyone before in his entire life, so for a few precious moments he was at a loss for what to do.

Unusually shy, Merlin leaned in, pulling Arthur forward a step by his waist and kissed him. They were no strangers to heated make out sessions, to the kissing of hello and goodbye. But this was different. Merlin kissed Arthur softly, his mouth worshipful and generous and endlessly, endlessly grateful. Merlin had never kissed another, the way he kissed Arthur now.

The separated and Arthur looked over Merlin wonderingly, pressing Merlin's curls back out of his eyes.

"What was that for?" He asked quietly, with the crooked smile Merlin loved.

He smiled back.

"For you," Merlin said simply. "Just you."

* * *

That night Merlin was sitting on the floor between Arthur's legs in front of the couch in Arthur's room. Arthur was running his fingers through Merlin's hair, speaking softly behind him.

"You really can't listen to anything I tell you, can you?" He was saying. Merlin had his eyes closed. He was smiling.

"I'm sorry Arthur," he said softly.

"Always counting," Arthur said affectionately, tipping Merlin's head forward, running his hands through the hair at the nape of Merlin's long neck. "If I keep punishing you for everytime you bring the numbers home from work with you, you'll never sit comfortably again."

Merlin hummed.

"Is that why you're rewarding me instead?"

"No," Arthur murmured. "I don't need a reason to do that."

Merlin tilted his head back, looked up at Arthur with a smile in his blue eyes.

"I didn't mean to bring work with me," he said. "I was nervous."

Arthur cocked his head to the side, brushing Merlin's bangs back over the top of his head.

"Nervous?"

"I was worried we'd run out of things to do," Merlin admitted, turning back around. "I haven't been on many actual dates before."

Arthur leaned over him, draped his arms over Merlin's slender shoulders.

"Neither have I."

Merlin lifted his had a little at that.

"Really?"

"Really."

Merlin turned, coming up on his knees, his palms warm on Arthur's thighs.

"Was it a good date?" He asked quietly.

Arthur kissed him. Merlin smiled against his mouth, leaned back, but Arthur chased him, and they were both trying not to grin through Arthur's snogging.

"That's not an answer," Merlin laughed, trying to escape. It was no use, Arthur pulled him closer by his waist, locked his hands there. Buried his face in Merlin's shoulder and breathed deep.

"Yes it is," he said.

"No, it's not you giant prat," Merlin said, laughing again when Arthur bit his shoulder.

"I can't answer you, Merlin. It's a selfish answer."

Merlin leaned back, tried to catch a look at Arthur, but he wouldn't budge from Merlin's shoulder.

"What does that mean?" Merlin said, running his hands up under Arthur's t-shirt.

Arthur took another long breath.

"I want days like this all the time, Merlin," he said, finally lifting his head. "I'm sorry I can't give you that."

Merlin sobered a little, looking Arthur over. He reached up and gently adjusted Arthur's glasses for him, tilted from where he'd pushed his face into Merlin's shoulder.

"Have I ever asked for anything else?" He said.

Arthur leaned back a little.

"No. That's why it's a selfish answer."

Merlin smiled.

"We'll get there," he said impulsively.

He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He was afraid of saying things like that out loud. Sometimes it all felt too big to be contained. He wanted it more than anything, and was unsure of what they would do once they had it. Arthur had told him once that he was enough. But Merlin had never been the kind of person who was enough for anyone. Least of all someone as good as Arthur.

"When we _do_ get there," Arthur said. "I'm going to take you out to dinner all the time, just for an excuse to see you in a suit coat and tie."

Merlin barked out a laugh, surprised.

"That's all it takes?" Merlin said, still laughing. "A suit and tie? You should have told me sooner."

Arthur kissed him affectionately, nipping at his bottom lip, making Merlin bite back with a grin.

"I can't tell you all my secrets," Arthur said. "If I did you'd be the one standing over me, and I'd be the one kneeling on the floor."

Merlin thrilled at the words. Surprised all at once by how much he liked the idea. He straightened his back a little, even kneeling on the floor, his height enough to bring him eye level with the slouching Arthur. He threaded his fingers through Arthur's hair, and pulled.

Arthur let his head be tipped back, exposing his throat to Merlin, and closed his eyes.

"Do you like that idea, Mr. Pendragon?" He said, low, against Arthur's hot skin.

Arthur _moaned_.

* * *

**PREVIEW**

Someone You Used to Love

* * *

"Hey, isn't that the new kid?" Leon said absently. 

Arthur looked up, but he didn't see anyone in the quad he didn't recognize. 

"I didn't know we were getting a new student," he said. Leon shrugged, dug into his sandwich. 

"I heard it from one of the track guys. Kid's supposed to be a star."

"At track?" Gwaine said, leaning back in his chair. "A little late in the school year for that, isn't it?"

"I don't fucking know," Leon said. "I'm not on the track team am I?"

Gwaine shoved him in the face. Leon kicked out the legs of his chair, sending Gwaine to the floor in a heap. 

A few people turned to look, chuckling as they passed by. Leon grinned and waved. Arthur opened his mouth to say something, when he saw the guy Leon must have been talking about. He had turned to look at them when Leon and Gwaine had started flailing around the table. He was tall and whip thin, and it was no surprise to Arthur that he was a track star. Although he was wearing a baggy hoodie underneath his uniform, he'd cuffed his sleeves, and Arthur could see that underneath his skin he was all muscle. But it was his eyes that stopped Arthur in his tracks. A crystal clear glacial blue, that caught his own for a split second before darting away, obscured by his messy black curls. 

Arthur felt his entire body run cold. 

Merlin Balinor.

_It couldn't be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go my dears, more new and fun things to explore! This chapter surprised me, for a lot of reasons but especially because of how right this ending felt to me. 
> 
> I don't _really_ consider Arthur a Switch in this Universe, and for those of you aren't familiar, Switch is the term many kinksters like to use to describe tops who like to bottom sometimes, or Dom(me)s who occasionally enjoy subbing. This is not uncommon at all, but I would say in my experience usually a person leans one way or the other.
> 
> I don't think Arthur is a Switch, but I do think the idea of letting Merlin control a scene really gets him off. This is something he (and I) have come to recognize, as everytime Merlin has had occasion to take control of him, it has been a singular experience for Arthur. And this is not something that he ever expected to enjoy as much as he does. 
> 
> So as for Merlin, it would be easy to call him a Switch because of his previous line of work. But Merlin is a service bottom, in my head cannon. So he's still very much submissive in any kink relationship, and his masochism is served far better when he subs. _However_ as a service bottom and an aforementioned brat, Merlin is also very good at what we call "topping from the bottom". Or directing a scene by listening or not listening to his Dom on purpose, and by controlling the sexual part of the scene while still remaining in a submissive position (all my ladies out there know what I'm talking about, am I right?). 
> 
> But this is a topic that will take some time to explore. So forgive me the cliffhanger! I promise to have the next chapter up very soon! And keep an eye out for my newest full length story, previewed here, Someone You Used to Love. Thank you as always, you're all so wonderful to write for. I just don't know how to stop. 💋


	26. Four Seven Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Leon resign from Excalibur and discover some unexpected news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone as always for your wonderful comments and encouragements, I can't tell you how much it means to me to hear your thoughts on my stories. Even your thoughts on any trepidation you have about the direction a particular part of the story is going! That really does help me understand your feelings on the characters and the story as a whole. Never hesitate to leave any of your thoughts for me to look over and I will always do my best to respond. ｡◕‿◕｡
> 
> Just a quick reminder that Reader Request Month closes on October 31st! If you have any requests you would like to make for short stories or vignettes related to RN7, please comment before then! As always, stay safe and be kind 💋

* * *

When Arthur moaned for him, Merlin saw stars.

He kissed Arthur's throat, slid his hands up Arthur's t-shirt, fingers tracing the tight muscles there.

"Color, Arthur," he whispered, lips grazing Arthur's neck.

Arthur took Merlin by the hair, tugging him back so that he could bite Merlin's bottom lip, grinning as he did.

"Green, Merlin."

Merlin smiled and slid back down to sit on heels, and took Arthur's hands tugging him up to his feet. Arthur stood, took Merlin's face in his hands and looked down at him. Merlin loved the look of him, in his rumpled t-shirt, hiked up a little to expose the tanned skin of his hip, his gaze fixed down his nose, his wire-framed glasses awash in the soft lamplight. Merlin stood, gracefully, drawing his hands up Arthur's hips, and kissed him, possessively, drinking deeply from Arthur's moans, the pliant heat of his lips, opening for Merlin. Letting him take what he wanted. It made Merlin immediately high.

He turned Arthur as he kissed him, guiding him back up the short steps to his bed, until when they'd made it to the edge of Arthur's mattress Merlin broke the kiss, taking Arthur's glasses and setting them on his own nose with a grin.

Arthur smirked, raised his arms indulgently when Merlin slid his hands under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over Arthur's head. He tossed it aside, and running his hands through Arthur's hair, placed his glasses gently back on Arthur's nose.

Merlin kissed his chest, his shoulders, sliding lower, back to his knees. How easy it was to fall to his knees at Arthur's feet. How good it felt.

"How hard you're always working, Arthur," Merlin said quietly, pulling down the hem of Arthur's sweatpants, taking them down so that he could run the palms of his hands down the backs of Arthur's thighs.

"When was the last time you let someone work for you?"

Arthur brushed Merlin's hair back, looking down at him with half lidded eyes, as he stepped out of his sweatpants at Merlin's direction.

"I don't recall," he said honestly.

Merlin hummed, peeling back the waistband of his pants, kissing the surgical scars on Arthur's hip. Arthur pulled in a breath when Merlin looked up at him through his curls. His blue eyes bright in the space between them.

"Tell me I can," Merlin said, sliding his fingers down the back of Arthur's pants, pressing his hot hands against his bare flesh.

"Can what, Merlin?" Arthur said, tilting his chin up.

"Tell me I can serve you."

Arthur groaned softly.

"Can you?" Arthur said, watching Merlin pull his pants off entirely. He stepped out of those as well, now fully nude for the first time in front of a clothed Merlin.

"You know I can," Merlin said.

Arthur bent at the waist, coming nose to nose with Merlin, proud despite their positions.

"Prove it," he whispered.

Merlin closed his eyes, warmed Arthur's thighs, his hips, with the palms of his hands, pressing Arthur back, gently, to sit on the edge of the bed.

Arthur went willingly, and then further, laying down with his legs draped over the edge of the mattress when Merlin took his left thigh between his magician's hands. He didn't have any lotion within arm's reach, but he had the warming lube they used. So Merlin used that, starting at Arthur's calf and massaging the muscle, kissing his shin as he worked his way higher, toward the scar on Arthur's hip.

Arthur let out a breath through his nose, his head drifting to the side to watch Merlin as he pressed the heel of his hand into the top of Arthur's thigh, supporting his knee with his other hand.

He'd had a few partners who had known about his injury before Merlin. He'd never had anyone touch him there, let alone try to ease the ache he felt there most days. Most everyone who knew about it kept their distance from his left side, as if they would break him in half if they touched it. There was a relief, a stunning clarity to Merlin massaging his sore muscles there, that Arthur had never considered before. That maybe he had always been afraid that his scars represented something ugly inside of him. A forever reminder that he was wounded and he always would be.

But when Merlin touched him there, put his mouth on the silvered skin where his stitches had been, ran his thumbs along the soft shell of his knee, Arthur thought he might be able to stand tall enough to touch the sky.

When Merlin finally reached his hip, he pressed his mouth there too, and bit down sharply. Arthur jolted a little, surprised, and arched his back as Merlin sucked hard on the skin there, bruising it, sending a hot tremor up Arthur's side.

He groaned when Merlin took him into his mouth, let out a surprised _Oh_ when Merlin pinned his thighs to the bed, stopping him from moving on his own, and Arthur grinned at the ceiling, panting now, already thinking of ways to get back at him for it. But _God_ it felt good.

And then suddenly Merlin was gone, and Arthur closed his eyes, waiting for the weight of him to return. He did, his strong thighs warm on either side of Arthur's hips, and when Arthur looked up at him, he was stunning in the evening light coming through his windows.

He was still wearing that oversized pullover, but the skin of his long legs was cloaked in starlight, and the bruises from Arthur's belt still healing all along his thighs. Arthur took hold of them as Merlin seated himself on Arthur's straining cock, and bent back with a moan when Arthur dug his thumbs in, gripped him tightly there.

He gasped softly when Arthur let him go, and leaning over him, Merlin began to move. He put his hands down on the mattress beside Arthur's head, rolled his hips and it was fucking sinful the way he did it, he was a devil in disguise he had to be, because Arthur was helpless to do anything but watch.

Helpless until Merlin reached between them, touching himself as he straightened, still rolling over Arthur like a wave. And Arthur took his wrists in his hands, and pinned them to Arthur's chest instead, rocking up into him.

Merlin let out a soft whine in protest, but Arthur tsk'd making him shudder as Arthur rolled them. Pinning Merlin's hands to the bed by his ears.

Merlin arched back into him, wrapped his long legs around Arthur's waist. Tried to keep some measure of control but Arthur was pressing in harder, deeper, and Merlin was letting out the cries Arthur heard in his dreams when Merlin was his to take anytime, anywhere he pleased.

Arthur let go of one of Merlin's wrists, took a fistful of his pullover and yanked it up, exposing Merlin's stomach, his chest and shoved the end of it into Merlin's mouth.

"Bite down," he said.

Merlin did, his gaze hot as Arthur pinned his wrist again, and began fucking Merlin in earnest now, driving him into the mattress, his breath caught in the space between Merlin's freckled shoulder and his jaw.

Merlin was arching underneath him, making muffled protests against the sweatshirt in his mouth. Arthur chuckled, fucked him hard, making Merlin hike his leg up higher on Arthur's hip.

"Oh no," Arthur whispered, still smiling. "You started this. I'm not going to touch you."

Merlin groaned, matching Arthur pace for pace, his head tipping to the side.

"You're serving me, remember? This is all you get."

Merlin _whined_.

"Please," Arthur said against the hot skin of Merlin's cheek. "You've come with far less."

But Arthur took pity on him, and released one of his wrists so he could hook Merlin's knee with his elbow, pulling his hips wider, and Merlin clutched at the back of Arthur's neck with his free hand, the cries he wrung out of him lighting Arthur up from under his skin.

And then Merlin was bending back against the mattress, his teeth clenched around the pullover in his mouth and Arthur could feel Merlin's whole body tighten and release all at once, pulled like a rip cord, and Arthur came hard, pressing deeper into Merlin who dug his fingers into Arthur's hair, and welcomed him in.

Merlin was panting, his body completely limp beneath Arthur, his face turned away a little, to the side. Arthur laughed, because he was still biting down on the pullover and it was utterly adorable. Gently, Arthur reached up, tugged the fabric free. Merlin moaned, an entirely contented sound, and reached up to wrap his arms around Arthur's shoulders. Pull him down entirely on top of Merlin.

Arthur settled himself, laying his cheek on Merlin's chest. Listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

"Sorry I wasn't very good," Merlin said with a smile in his words.

Arthur snorted.

"I'm tired," he said by way of acknowledgement, closing his arms tighter around Merlin.

"Shall I just wait here then?" Merlin said, running his hands over Arthur's broad shoulders.

Arthur smiled against Merlin's skin.

"You're a terrible servant, Merlin."

Merlin grinned.

* * *

The days that followed were a blur to Merlin. He and Leon had resigned from Excalibur quietly, and were allowed immediate notice given the circumstances surrounding media. Excalibur was all too happy to be rid of Merlin, but handing over his keys to the employee entrance and his locker gave Merlin a sudden shock of panic he didn't expect.

It wasn't exactly panic. A kind of anxious uncertainty about the finality of it all. He'd worked as an escort for nearly a decade. And despite all that had happened, he wasn't sorry for it. He had enjoyed the work once. Leaving Excalibur for a desk job, regardless of the fact that it was for Arthur, made Merlin uncomfortable in a way he hadn't been prepared for. He was quiet when Leon walked him out of the building for the last time.

There were still reporters in the parking lot shouting questions at him, but there were far fewer than there had been. Still, perhaps sensing Merlin's mood, Leon moved him to the Charger with a hand on his arm, reminding him discreetly not to take a swing at anyone.

It was lucky he did.

"Mr. Balinor how do you respond to the allegations that you lure powerful men into compromising situations for financial gain?"

Merlin jerked around, searching the faces of the reporters.

"Who said that?" He shouted back.

But Leon was already forcing him down into the car by his shoulders.

"Will you be present at Cornelius Sigan's parole hearing this weekend?"

Merlin slammed a hand down on the roof of Leon's car to stop Leon from shoving him down into the seat. But even Leon had gone still at the words. Merlin was staring into the Charger. His ears were ringing.

He'd just had a parole hearing not two months prior. Merlin knew. He'd been there.

Somewhere above the noise and the camera flashes, and the sound of his own blood in his ears, Merlin heard Leon saying,

"Get in the car, Merlin, so I can look into it."

"Mr. Balinor were you aware that Cornelius Sigan has made a public announcement with his intention to sue you for defamation of character in a civil court?"

"What...?" Merlin said, turning to look back at the reporters again. They pressed closer but he couldn't seem to focus on any of their faces. Leon had a hand in the collar of his coat, but Merlin wouldn't budge.

"Sigan has implied new evidence has been admitted to the court proving you harmed yourself in the matter regarding his case. Do you have any comments, Mr. Balinor?"

"The matter...regarding his case?" Merlin heard himself saying. He could have been yelling it. He wasn't really sure anymore. "You mean his attempt to murder me?"

"Merlin!" Leon snapped in his ear. "Get in the fucking car!"

Merlin didn't remember getting into the Charger. The next thing he knew, they were driving what seemed like too fast, toward Cavendish instead of his apartment in Brixton. He tried to tell Leon to take him home, but what came out instead was,

"He wasn't recommended for parole," His voice sounded disjointed, like it didn't really belong to him anymore. "It should be another three years before he can file for review."

Leon was glaring at the road. Merlin felt numb.

"They only gave him 10 years," Merlin was saying, mostly to himself. "By the time he was supposed to get another parole review, he would only have two years left on his sentence."

Leon knew all of that, of course. He'd read the case file and the court's decision. The steering wheel creaked in his grip.

"Merlin, you've got to get a hold of yourself. I need you to focus. We need as much information as we can about the allegations Sigan's leveled to the press. If they're asking about it it's likely been printed somewhere."

He didn't ask Merlin if he'd heard about it prior to this evening. It was clear he had no idea. He was staring out the window, but his gaze was empty. He'd been completely unresponsive for most of the drive.

"Merlin?" Leon tried again.

He didn't get a reply. Instead, Merlin picked up his phone and called his solicitor.

* * *

When Arthur came into the manor at Cavendish, Merlin was seated at the round table, legs up, his head on his knees, his phone pressed against his ear.

He watched as Merlin made noises into the phone without really answering whoever it was he was talking to. His solicitor, he assumed. Leon said he hadn't hung up the phone since they'd been in the car.

Merlin looked defeated. Arthur had never seen him look so small. Not even when he'd dropped after the rope modeling he'd done at Excalibur's club expo. This was something more insidious than the thrashing desperation of someone trying not to lose. This was a quiet acceptance of loss.

It broke Arthur's heart.

He passed Merlin quietly, because Merlin wouldn't look at him or anyone, until he'd finally hung up the phone. Instead Arthur stalked down the hall to the office to find Leon and Gwaine, and Percival.

He pulled open the door with more force than he'd meant to.

"What happened?" He said. It was a barely controlled shout.

Leon stood. Relayed that after he and Merlin had resigned from Excalibur, they'd had to wade through another crowd of reporters to get to the car. And they'd said some things neither Merlin nor Leon saw coming. In the aftermath, Merlin had been more or less catatonic, and he'd called his solicitor, and that was all Leon could be sure about.

Gwaine was pulling papers out of the fax machine, handing them to Percival.

"His solicitor is faxing us whatever he can," Gwaine said.

Percival was looking over the documents. He was the oldest of them by five years, and before he had enlisted, he'd been an associate in a law firm in Croydon. It was difficult for Arthur not to demand some kind of response from him.

"This is all jumbled up," Percival muttered, flipping through pages. "There should be..." he made a small sound when he pulled a document from the pile free, glancing it over.

"It's not good," he said, scanning the pages. "But not as bad as it sounded initially."

"Fucking reporters," Leon growled from the computer at Gwaine's elbow.

"No suits have been filed, as of now," Percival said, but handed Arthur a scan of an article that had been printed two days ago. Sigan had done a jailhouse interview where he spoke of filing a suit against Merlin.

"On what fucking grounds?" All of them looked up at him when he said it. Arthur rarely swore, at least not since he'd taken that bullet to his hip. Percival was the first to look away, back to the papers in his hands.

"No civil suit, but it looks like Sigan's attorney has filed a motion to introduce new evidence to Sigan's case. He wants the Police Service of Northern Ireland to reopen the investigation. He's also filed a motion to appeal the parole board's decision in light of the new evidence. He's requesting Sigan be paroled if there is sufficient evidence to return the case to the Crown."

"What evidence?" Arthur snapped.

"That I stabbed myself," Merlin said quietly from the doorway. "That I staged the scene."

Percival, Gwaine and Leon weren't looking at Merlin. They were looking at Arthur, who had gone completely still, his back to the door. None of them had seen him look like that since Afghanistan. The look in Arthur's eyes now, was the look of someone going to war.

"Can I have a minute?" Merlin said quietly.

He was looking at the floor. Leon, Gwaine and Percival slowly stood from their various perches around the office, and left. Arthur turned very slowly as Merlin shut the door behind them.

"He says he has a witness," Merlin said, and he sounded like he was gasping for air. "He says he has a doctor who will testify that I...that..."

Arthur crossed the room and took Merlin's face in his gloved hands. Tilted his head back. Merlin was clutching his phone to his chest and there were tears streaming down his face but he couldn't seem to get enough air.

"I can't...b-breathe..." he sobbed. He dropped his phone. It clattered to the floor between them, unnoticed. For one horrifying second, Arthur didn't know what to do.

"Merlin," he said, taking his hands from Merlin's face one at a time, pulling his gloves off with his teeth and letting them drop to the floor. "Merlin, listen to me. I'm going to count to four," he said as gently as possible. Merlin was gripping his wrists, and the sounds he was making scared Arthur. But he willed himself to sound calm.

"You're going to inhale for the count,"

Merlin was nodding vigorously. Managed a half-gasped,

"I know, I know it."

Arthur counted.

When he got to four, Merlin held his breath. He was supposed to hold it for seven and let it out for eight, but he only made it to five, the first time. His breath exploded out of him as though he'd been punched. He was still crying.

"I didn't do what they're saying, Arthur," he said brokenly, his breathing a pained staccato wheeze.

"I know," Arthur said. "I'm going to count to four again, Merlin."

Merlin sobbed. But he inhaled for the four count. This time, he made it to six before blowing all his air out between pursed lips. He was gripping Arthur's wrists harder now, as though he were afraid Arthur would let him go.

"If this comes out now," Merlin heaved. "You won't be able to go to the press. They'll hold this over you, because of me."

"That's what you're worried about?" Arthur mourned. "Merlin, love I need you to breathe right now. Nothing else."

"I wouldn't do that to anyone," Merlin gasped. "I wouldn't do that to _you_."

And it hit Arthur, like an avalanche, what was happening. Merlin had resigned from Excalibur hours ago, and he was only consulting for Arthur on paper. He was being threatened with a law suit, potential criminal charges and what he was most worried about, what was killing him, was the thought that Arthur would cut his losses and leave. That Arthur would think less of him now. That he would let Merlin go.

He pulled Merlin against him. Buried his face in Merlin's hair. Merlin clutched at his shoulders, crying into his throat.

"Merlin Emrys Balinor," he whispered, his whole body shaking. "I believe you. I've always believed you. I'm right here. I've got you."

And finally, finally Merlin was able to breathe in for four, while Arthur counted against his ear. Hold it for seven. Let it out for eight.

"Good, Merlin," Arthur said. "Again."

He did.

When at last there was a relative silence in the room, when Merlin was breathing easy again, his forehead pressed to Arthur's chest, Arthur leaned back.

"Here's what we're going to do," he said softly, taking charge. "We're going to go out there and talk to Percival. And then you're going to call Gwen. And then we're going to rest, you and I."

Merlin nodded, pulled away finally to run the heel of his hand over his cheek.

"I'm going to go wash my face," he whispered.

Arthur pressed his bangs back away from his eyes. Kissed his forehead.

"I'll be in the kitchen."

They separated in the hall, and Arthur leaned into the living room while Merlin made his way to the bathroom and jerked his chin at Percival, who got up from the couch and followed him to the round table.

He was still holding the pile of documents faxed over from Merlin's solicitor.

"Lay it out for me," Arthur said, finally shrugging out of his coat.

"Merlin has a good attorney, he's already tracking down the witness Sigan named. Elyan is looking into it on our end. The fact that the man is a medical professional is tough...there's a lot of witness testimony that Merlin had been in hospital before for playing rough with his clients. Having a doctor who can definitively say that the wounds were self-inflicted might sway the Crown to re-tri the evidence."

"But we know that's not what happened."

Percival glanced up at Arthur and then back down to the papers on the table. Merlin came into the kitchen quietly. Arthur pulled out a chair. Merlin sat.

"Right, _we_ know that. But this is in the Crown's hands now. If they think it's enough to take the case back to court, then Sigan's solicitors will file for a release on appeal. And he'll likely get it. He was a powerful man in the community when he was imprisoned. And he's got no criminal record before or since. Model prisoner."

"But..." Percival continued. "The comments about a civil suit were premature. My guess is that they will appeal for a retrial. If they get it, they will try for an acquittal, if they can't get a not-guilty verdict. And if they manage all of that, _then_ they will move for a civil case against Merlin."

Merlin dropped his head into his hands but said nothing. Arthur watched him out of the corner of his eye.

Percival put his big hand on the back of Merlin's neck still looking at Arthur.

"Merlin needs a reputable medical professional to refute these claims. I told his solicitor to reach out if he thinks there's anything we can do. But he's in good hands. His attorney is on top of it."

Merlin let out a deep breath. Arthur ran a hand through his hair.

"Okay, keep me posted on Elyan, I want to know what he finds. Merlin?"

He lifted his head. His blue eyes seemed dull.

"If you want to be there for the hearing, I can arrange it."

Merlin stared at him for a long time. Then he glanced at Percival.

"You won't have the opportunity to speak like you did at his parole hearing," Percival said gently.

"Then I'll stay," Merlin said quietly. "I don't want to make it worse."

Percival nodded, squeezing Merlin's neck before letting him go.

"That's probably for the best."

"I'm going to go call Gwen now," Merlin said, pushing himself up from the table.

Arthur and Percival watched him go. And then, quietly, Arthur said,

"Get me Lancelot's phone number."

* * *

Lancelot hadn't reached out to Gwaine again, since he'd called Gwen. Although he'd been doing some digging on his own, he was hesitant to reach back out to this private security team. He could do the work for Gwen, for Merlin. But he didn't know how he felt about getting involved beyond that.

He'd made so many mistakes the first time. He didn't know if he could live with himself if he caused either of them anymore hurt.

The phone rang. It was his office line. He picked it up, rubbing his eyes.

"This is Lance," he said informally.

He didn't have many clients, and the ones who called him at the office and not on his cellphone were familiar with him by now. So he was surprised when a voice echoed over the line that he didn't recognize.

"Lancelot DuLac, Private Investigator?" He sat up a little in his chair. Checked the caller ID.

London.

"Speaking," he said.

"Thank you for taking my call. One of my team reached out to you recently, and we never heard back from you."

"I'm sorry," Lancelot said. "Who is this?"

"Arthur Pendragon."

The silence over the phone was deafening.

"The security team that called about Merlin's case?" He managed finally.

"They work for me," Arthur said.

Another heavy silence.

Lancelot's mind was racing. What had Merlin gotten himself into? Was this man looking for information on Merlin for some reason? But no, that didn't make sense, Gwen would never have sent them if that were the case. She said Merlin needed help not that he was being run down by another wealthy man looking to bury him...

_What the hell was going on?_

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," Arthur said. "I am willing to answer any of them. But I have an urgent favor to ask in return."

Lance shook himself, ran a quick internet search on Arthur Pendragon while he spoke.

"Let's start with the favor, and we'll go from there."

"I understand you're in Belfast," Arthur said.

"I am."

"I'd like to retain you to sit in on an appeal hearing that is scheduled to go before the Crown this Thursday, at two p.m."

Lancelot frowned, scanning the Business Insider bio on Arthur. Clicked over to recent news. Saw a picture of Merlin walking down the streets of London, his shoulders hunched. His eyes skipped over the headline.

**BLUEBEARD PROSTITUE HOOKS A PENDRAGON?**

"What do you need from me, exactly? You'll have access to the transcripts once the hearing is finished."

"I want someone I can trust in the court room," Arthur said. "I want you to report back to me on everything you see and hear before it hits the news."

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth," Lancelot said, finally peeling his gaze from the computer screen. "But what makes you think you can trust me?"

"Cornelius Sigan is appealing his conviction," Arthur said. "His lawyers will be presenting new evidence that they believe will grant him a new trial."

Lancelot had to force himself to unclench his teeth.

"I'll go to the trial," he said. "You said you would answer any questions I have, if I agree to do this for you?"

"I did."

"I just have one," Lancelot said. "What is your relationship with Merlin?"

Arthur was silent for a long time. Lancelot leaned over his desk, focused entirely on the phone now. He waited for what seemed like an eternity before he said,

"It's a simple question."

He heard Arthur breathe out over the line again. And of all the things he had expected this man to say to him, he was not expecting the answer he got.

"I'm in love with him."


	27. The Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin waits for the verdict. Gwaine makes a tough call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely cannot begin to describe my appreciation for all of you and your heartfelt comments on this story. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has taken the time to write to me your thoughts and ideas and to point out my mistakes as I wander along this path with you. I hope you enjoy this small interlude chapter, and the next one as well as we move into the final arc of this story. Keep an eye on Reader Request Month for Room Number Seven! If you have any additional story pieces you would like to see from this Universe, hop on over to my other story and comment your ideas. Requests close on October 31st! 
> 
> As always, stay safe and be kind 💋

* * *

Lancelot screeched to a stop outside the Hall of Justice on his matte black motorcycle, the back tire hitting the curb harder than he'd intended it to. He wasn't worried about drawing any attention in the alley where he'd parked. It wasn't an ideal spot for his expensive bike but he'd needed to blow off some steam because inside that court room he was going to have to blend in. Be professional. No matter what happened.

Even if the only thing he really wanted to do was to put his fist down Sigan's throat and make him swallow his own teeth.

He told himself he wasn't going to get emotional about this. After talking to Gwen, seeing Merlin's face in the tabloids again though, it all came rushing back in technicolor. He thought of the ring in his sock drawer and as he entered through the main hall doors he ducked into a bathroom to splash water on his face.

He stared at himself in the mirror, leaning over the sink, his hands bracing the porcelain sides. Replayed the last conversation he and Gwen had ever had while she was still wearing his ring on her finger.

It was Gwen's decision to follow Merlin to Excalibur that had done it. That final nail in the coffin that made him cross a line he'd never meant to cross. Telling her that he couldn't follow them back into that world - it was crazy, they were, the both of them, but especially Gwen, who had been a school teacher and loved it before she'd tossed off and decided to manage the house at Excalibur. All to keep Merlin safe. Merlin, who couldn't seem to let go of the life, even though it was a John who had nearly killed him in his own apartment.

Because let's all be honest here, they knew Sigan was a creep. Calling him Merlin's boyfriend was a joke. The man was powerful, he had money, and he didn't have relationships, he had desires. Lancelot had known what kind of man Sigan was from the drop, but he hadn't said anything because Merlin was happy. But Sigan's only reason for dating Merlin, if you could call it that, was to possess something beautiful and to ensure that no one else would ever possess it again.

And Lancelot, the fool that he was, thought if he stayed in Ireland, if he got a good job, then Merlin and Gwen would stay too. And when they didn't he was too much of a coward to go after them. Too much of a coward to tell Gwen that he was just scared, that he would never love anyone else, that he didn't want her to go. To tell Merlin that he was sorry he couldn't stop Sigan. That it kept him up some nights wondering, what Merlin and Gwen were doing now. If they were safe.

And now here was Arthur Pendragon.

Lancelot felt the creeping paranoia of watching history repeat itself when he'd seen the tabloids about the rumors of Arthur and Merlin's affair. And on paper they were just rumors - there were no pictures of them together, no quotes or substantial proof. Arthur didn't know him from Adam, had no reason to confirm or deny any of it. And yet.

_I'm in love with him._

Lancelot closed his eyes. He believed him. The way he said it, hit Lance in the chest, and maybe he was reaching, but Arthur had said it the way that Lancelot had first admitted to himself that he loved Gwenevere.

That he was in love forever. There would never be anyone else.

And when he heard that, Lancelot knew that whatever Arthur asked of him, he would do it. He could put aside all his mistakes. Standing on the shoulders of Arthur Pendragon, Lancelot could be himself again. The person he had been, had always known somewhere inside of him that he still was.

There was no fear, anymore.

Lancelot shook himself. Straightened his shoulders, and headed back out into the hall. He couldn't record anything, or take pictures. They took his phone at the security check in. But he had a notebook with him, and a pencil. He sat in the back. Leaned on the seat and pretended he was with the press. It was easy enough.

Lancelot watched the clock.

Fifteen minutes.

As he turned back to his notebook, a man entered and sat on the opposite side of the room. On the defendant's side. Lance took note of him out of the corner of his eye. He seemed familiar somehow.

He started etching a detailed list of things he could see from where he was if he leaned forward in his seat.

A little short, Lance thought. Shorter than him, anyway, so he pegged him between 1.70m and 1.75m. Whip thin, maybe...12 stone. The guy was a toothpick. Greasy brown hair, shoulder length. Beard and mustache. Dark eyes. Currently wearing a dark shirt and coat. Jeans. Navy baseball cap.

Lancelot leaned back. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen this guy before somewhere. Maybe at the original trial?

He wrote that down to look into later.

He glanced at the man again between the moving bodies of men and women coming into the room.

He didn't think that was it though. Sometimes he dreamed about those days, sitting behind Merlin's tense back as the trial slogged on. Hyper aware of everyone and everything in the room. But there was something itching in the back of his mind. Something.

The Crown called the hearing to begin and Lancelot turned his attention back to the solicitors and the argument presented for appeal. But his eyes kept sliding back to the man on the defendant's side.

He'd taken off his hat. And it hit Lancelot like a landslide. The memory of an email he'd received from Gwaine after he hadn't called him back. With a picture attached. Of a man they were trying to track down in Dungannon.

 _This_ man.

Lancelot felt his back tighten and fought down the adrenaline kick the revelation sent straight to his chest. He had to focus on the hearing. But he kept one eye on the man.

What did it mean that the person Gwaine was looking for was here, now, at Sigan's appeal hearing. On the side of the _defendant_?

Lancelot took a deep breath. Turned back to the problem at hand. He needed to tell Arthur's team. But how?

His smartwatch.

He glanced down at his wrist.

They took his phone but not his watch. If he was within range of his phone he might still be able to send a message.

He tapped the screen of his watch discretely. He still had service. It hadn't disconnected. He pulled up Gwaine's number.

Swiped through a quick message.

Held his breath and hit send.

* * *

Gwaine stood at his desk in the offices at the Pendragon Estate and roared down the hall.

"PERCIVAL, GET IN HERE."

Elyan looked up, startled.

"What's going on?"

"We got a lead on Cedric. Lancelot's looking at him right now. _At Sigan's appeal hearing._ "

Elyan pulled open his laptop and began typing.

"I can get you in the air in thirty minutes, but clearing the airspace will be tight. This is the window, if we miss it we won't get another chance for a few hours."

"Make it happen," Gwaine said, already pulling the go bag from Percival's locker free.

As Percival rounded the corner at a jog, Gwaine threw the bag at his chest. Percival caught it.

"You're wheels up in thirty. Take the single engine. You're going to Ireland."

Percival shouldered the bag without missing a beat. Caught the keys to the Escalade that Gwaine threw at him next.

"Details?"

"I'll text them. Cedric is at the appeal hearing. Run him down."

Percival's gaze darkened.

"I'll radio when I'm in the air." And then he was gone.

Gwaine stared after him and then back down to his phone.

* * *

Lancelot glanced down at his watch.

> Percival is en route to you. ETA 2 hours.

He turned to look at the man and his heart jumped into his throat. Lancelot twisted around, not caring about keeping a low profile, and craned his neck, searching for the man. He wasn't in his seat.

He was headed for the doors at the back of the court room.

Lancelot took a deep breath. Weighed his options. Listened, the hair on the back of his neck lifting, as he listened to the door open. Thunder shut.

* * *

> He's leaving.

Gwaine stared at the words. If Cedric left the Hall of Justice and they didn't have eyes on him, they might not get another chance to corner him. But Lancelot wasn't working for Gwaine. He was working for Arthur.

Gwaine weighed the options. Without Lancelot in the court room they could still get the results from Merlin's solicitor. But if they lost Cedric now they didn't have any other leads.

He hesitated. Then replied.

> Follow him.

Then he called Arthur.

* * *

Arthur didn't have much occasion to be genuinely angry at any of the members of his security team. They were a tight-knit group who had seen real horrors, survived real violence together. And that wasn't something that was easily shaken. Especially not for Arthur, who didn't really have friends in his life except these men who had his back in Afganistan and on his payroll or not, had his back here, in the comparatively safe landscape of London proper.

But if he were going to be angry at one of them, he hadn't expected it to be Gwaine. Gwaine who knew him best, who had seen him through the most. Who was his head of security for a reason - because Arthur trusted him more than he trusted himself most days. Which was saying something because for the most part, Arthur considered himself to be relatively unshakeable at this juncture in his life.

So he couldn't _fathom_ what Gwaine had been thinking when he'd subverted Arthur's instructions and told Lancelot to leave the court room that afternoon.

It had been hours.

Percival had touched down in Belfast and was now radio-silent, in pursuit of Lancelot who was in pursuit of Cedric. And none of them had any idea what had actually happened with the appeal. According to the news it was still ongoing, at least for now. But who knew how long that would last and all Arthur could think was that now, instead of hearing it from _him_ Merlin was going to get the first call about the outcome of the appeal from his solicitor. Alone in his house.

Gwaine was waiting for Arthur to say something. But he was still too angry to speak.

If nothing happened, if the appeal was denied then Sigan would just go back to jail and he wouldn't have any more opportunities to change the course of his sentence for another half a decade or so. In which case, he needn't be worried. But if the appeal was granted, and Sigan was released, Arthur couldn't stand the thought of Merlin getting that call on a peaceful evening, with no one to catch him if he fell.

"Arthur - " Gwaine started.

"Don't," Arthur snapped. It startled Gwaine into silence.

He took another few seconds before he could properly address the situation. Said the only thing he could.

"Don't apologize. Make me understand."

Gwaine took a deep breath.

"When Lancelot saw Cedric in the court room today, he messaged me, for better or worse. I had to make the call. Cedric was walking out. We were going to lose him."

"And?" Arthur hissed.

Gwaine narrowed his eyes. Stepped closer.

"Arthur, I know you know why I did it. And I know why you're angry. I'm not heartless. I do this job for you because you trust me to make the tough choices when you're not around to make them yourself."

"I was at the office Gwaine, not on the fucking moon!" Arthur roared, slamming his hand down on his desk. "You should have called me!"

"There was no time," Gwaine said calmly.

The two men stared at each other for a long time. Arthur knew he was right. But he hadn't sent Lancelot to run down leads for him and Gwaine. He'd sent him there so that Merlin would have someone in his corner when the decision on Sigan's appeal came down.

Arthur turned a little, put his hands in his pockets. And glaring at the wall said,

"Don't let it happen again," very quietly.

Gwaine took it for the dismissal it was, and left.

* * *

Merlin was curled up on his couch, one leg on the floor, bouncing it incessantly. Gwen was at work. He ignored the calls he got from his mum. From Dr. Gaius. He was flipping his screen off and on, waiting for a call from his solicitor. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

He'd been waiting since Monday.

Working at Cavendish during the week had been Hell. He'd barely managed to hold on to his concentration. It shouldn't have taken him as long as it did to pull the data for Arthur to take to his legal team. But he'd managed it. The closer to Thursday he got, the worse he felt. He couldn't remember sleeping before waking up in Arthur's bed on Sunday.

His hands were shaking now, lack of sleep and almost no food. He was too focused on the hearing. And he and Arthur had agreed not to see each other until the hearing had passed. The fixed eye of the media would be focused squarely on Merlin now and they were so close to Arthur announcing the press conference on Merlin's work. They were going to keep their heads down. Whatever happened next.

Arthur told him Lance would be at the hearing. That made Merlin relax a fraction. A fraction of a fraction.

He flipped on his phone screen again.

Flipped it back off.

It was getting dark out. The hearing should have been over by now.

He flipped open his phone screen.

Would they grant him immediate release on appeal if he got a new trial?

He flipped the phone screen closed.

Or would they wait to release him?

The phone rang.

Merlin jumped, bumping his knee on the coffee table. Fumbled to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" He croaked. Listened to his solicitor on the other end of the phone.

He heard the words but didn't realize that he was standing in his boots and out the door until the phone cut out as he stumbled his way into the London Underground.

He inhaled for four.

Held for seven.

Exhaled for eight.

Barreled his way on to the tube.

Four.

Seven.

Eight.

Hid himself in the press of the rush hour bodies crammed inside the train.

Four.

Seven.

Eight.


	28. All The Time That I Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur care for each other in the aftermath of Sigan's hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains very hard BDSM play, and involves bodily harm. Remember that when playing hard with a partner it is important to respect limits, to admit when you've crossed them, and to understand your own needs as well. Sometimes when we play, it is easy to forget about our own emotional response to the scene if we are not the ones on the receiving end of impact, or any other type of kink play that can result in injury.
> 
> This chapter is a conversation about that. 
> 
> It's okay to not be okay with the results of a scene. And it's important to discuss that afterwards. Even between two very experienced people like Arthur and Merlin are depicted in this story, it is always possible to go too far, to over-extend yourself, and also to play under compromised circumstances. 
> 
> I don't condone running a scene out of anger, or while intoxicated or in any other clouded mental state. But it happens. Always remember to be safe, and be kind, and don't be afraid to stop if you feel like things have gone too far. 
> 
> As Arthur would say, "That's why we ask."

* * *

Arthur was not accustomed to people slamming doors in his home. So when Merlin entered his room with Leon hot on his heels, the door crashing against the wall, he actually crumpled the paper he was holding in his fist out of sheer reflex.

He turned and Merlin was nose to nose with him, his blue eyes hot. There was a fury behind those eyes Arthur could feel in the space between them. His brows lowered into a tense, angry frown. There was a dangerous look in Merlin's eyes. He barely heard Leon.

"He was just at the door, Arthur no one picked him up, I don't - "

"Leave us," Arthur said. His tone was low and deep. Leon left, but not without hesitating. It took him too long to close the door.

Arthur's anger intensified, looking over Merlin's trembling shoulders. The heat under his skin, visible now in the light of his desk lamp.

"Hit me." Merlin said.

It was not a suggestion.

He almost said no. Another reflex. He was angry because Merlin was angry and he was inclined to give back in kind. Merlin was so close to him, Arthur could feel the moment he began to hold his breath to stop himself from shouting at Arthur. This, whatever this was, wasn't a scene. This was Merlin asking for something only Arthur could give.

He just didn't know if he could give it, like this.

"Why?"

"Because I asked."

"Not good enough," Arthur said, turning to toss the crumpled paper on his desk.

Merlin tensed, opened his mouth to start shouting, when Arthur fisted his hand in Merlin's curls, and pulled.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't meant to be arousing. He forced Merlin's head back until he came down on his knees, hard, and kept pulling, until Merlin was bent back looking up at him, his pale throat bared.

"I didn't say no," Arthur hissed. "But I'll consider it, if you can't follow a simple direction."

The timbre of his own voice startled Arthur. Merlin stilled under his hand.

"I'll ask you one more time," he said. "Why?"

Merlin shook, the anger taking him again. Arthur could see the gears turning in that exceptional mind of his, trying to decide if Arthur was playing.

"This isn't a joke, Merlin. Tell me why."

Something about that relaxed Merlin, a fraction.

"They released him. He's out of jail and I haven't slept in three days and I need you to hit me or I'll start screaming."

He said it with such venom, Arthur could only stare for a long, silent second.

"Get up," Arthur said, very quietly, aware his own voice was shaking a little. "Put your hands flat, elbows on my desk. Head down. Don't move. Don't speak unless it's to use your safe word. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," Merlin said. And it sounded like, _'you fucking moron'._

Arthur slapped him across the face, hard.

Merlin was so stunned, he could only stare.

"I said," Arthur whispered right against Merlin's ear. "Do. You. Understand?"

Merlin's cheek was reddening.

"Yes Arthur," he said quietly.

"Then do it," Arthur snapped.

When Merlin got to his feet to make his way to Arthur's desk, Arthur had to turn away and focus all of his energy on the door. He needed to lock the door. And then he needed to call Gwaine.

Sigan was out of jail.

Merlin hadn't slept in three days.

The bolt in his door slid home and his eyes tracked the scuff in his wall from the handle slamming against the paint as he thumbed open his phone. He put his free hand in his pocket and turned to watch Merlin.

He was bent over the desk as directed, hands flat on the old wood. Head down. Not a sound out of him.

Gwaine picked up on the first ring.

"Arthur what's going on?"

"Sigan was released from prison. Take whatever measures necessary to ensure there is an explanation for Merlin's late arrival to the estate. No one will disturb us until I come to get you."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. When he finally acknowledged Arthur, Gwaine's voice was dark and foreboding.

"And Sigan?" He said.

"Deal with it."

Arthur hung up, and then he slid the phone into his jacket pocket.

Merlin was struggling. He was shifting his shoulders. His hands fisted momentarily on the desk before flattening again.

Arthur crossed the room slowly, hands in his pockets.

"You're going to listen to me very carefully Merlin. What happens next I will decide. How much you can take and how much is too much. If I say we're done, we're done. There won't be any arguments. If you willfully disobey me, we stop this. There is no game here."

He stood behind the tight muscled back. Watched the sharp angles of his shoulder blades moving beneath the fabric of his shirt. He did not touch Merlin.

"I'm not punishing you, for anything. Am I clear?"

"Yes Arthur."

"Then why, Merlin?"

"Because I need it." He said it so quietly, Arthur almost didn't hear him. But there was no hesitation. No hint of attitude or impudence. Just the truth.

Arthur let out a breath through his nose.

He hadn't told Merlin to remove his clothing. He knelt on the floor behind the trembling thighs. Pulled his black jeans off the sharp hips in one strong pull. Merlin let out a breath as though he'd been punched. Arthur realized he was already crying. He didn't have to ask. These were frustrated tears. Something Arthur hadn't ever seen when they played.

Reverently, Arthur slid his hands along Merlin's lower back, warm and a little sweaty now from being in his pockets, pushing up his t-shirt. Dragging his nails back down the pale spine.

Merlin needed something heavy and relentless and something that would bruise. Arthur could feel it in his bones.

"There's a paper on the desk. Uncrumple it and put it between your hands."

Merlin did as he was asked. His skin was flushed and his eyes still so full of that dangerous energy...but Arthur was relieved to note that his body language was much more relaxed.

"Read it to me."

Merlin looked at him over his shoulder. It was the look he had given Arthur...almost a year ago now, on that first night in room number seven. It was a look that said, _"Do your worst."_

Arthur stared back.

Merlin turned back to the paper. Arthur watched his blue eyes track the heading before he started reading.

"Dear Mr. Pendragon," he ground out. "This Agreement and the exhibits attached hereto contain -"

He struck Merlin hard. It was hard enough to rock the black haired man forward onto his hands.

Merlin swallowed hard before continuing.

"...hereto contain the entire agreement of the parties with respect to -"

Arthur lost track of how many times he'd struck Merlin, only keeping pace because of the breathy shuddering litany of words falling from Merlin's lips.

"This Agreement may only be amended by a written document duly executed by all parties." Merlin sobbed. At some point, he'd pressed his forehead to the paper between his hands. His skin was purple under Arthur's palm.

Arthur hesitated on the next swing.

Slowly he lowered his hand to Merlin's back. Felt his tailbone dip under Arthur's fingers and the gasp of not receiving another blow.

"Again," Arthur said.

Merlin pulled in a shuddering breath.

"D-dear Mr. Pendragon," he cried.

Merlin was hard. And so was Arthur. But this wasn't about sex, not tonight. This was about pain. So Arthur didn't address it. Instead he slapped Merlin across the back of his thigh.

Merlin actually yelped.

Arthur slapped him again. And again. He only stopped when Merlin stopped speaking, heaving for breath with his teeth against the paper, wet from his tears and saliva.

Slowly he lifted Merlin off the desk, his arm around the heaving chest, and he turned in Arthur's arms, stumbling, pulling Arthur to him by the collar of his shirt and his pants were around his ankles and both of them were breathing too hard and it was insane, the whole thing.

Arthur brushed back Merlin's curls. Pressed the tears away on his cheeks with the stinging palms of his hands.

"Breathe, Merlin."

Merlin shook his head, but he did, letting Arthur help him out of his jeans.

"Put your legs around my waist."

He dug his hands into the impressive bruises on Merlin's ass as he lifted him to carry him into the adjoining Master bedroom. Merlin sobbed into his shoulder.

He set him down on the edge of the bed and knelt to reach beneath it.

"Take your clothes off," Arthur said.

Merlin did. Quietly. The tears beginning to ebb for now.

When Merlin looked up again he blinked at the glass of water Arthur was holding under his nose. He took it gingerly, watching as Arthur opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and removed a hank of blue rope and a bag of...

"Are those bottle caps?" Merlin rasped. His voice sounded wrecked already.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" Arthur asked, but there was no heat to it.

"No Arthur," Merlin replied quietly. Finished his water.

When Arthur set the water glass back on the side table he pulled Merlin to the end of his four poster bed forcibly, making Merlin hiss in surprise. Hooking one of those long, long legs over his shoulder, Arthur began his first tie on Merlin's right thigh without preamble. It wasn't a quick tie. He wove the blue rope like the fronds of a reed basket around Merlin's thigh, letting him lay back. Relax some of the tension he was still holding in his shoulders, his hips.

He pressed the sharp edges of the bottle caps into Merlin's inner thigh as he went, before pulling the ropes tight across them. Then he tied Merlin's thigh to his bedpost.

Merlin whimpered, tossing his head as Arthur moved to his other thigh.

When he was done he stood between Merlin's legs staring into those impossibly blue eyes. He wasn't even close to gone, and that wouldn't do tonight.

Arthur slapped him across the inside of his thigh. Merlin arched, choking on a scream. Arthur put his shoulder into the next swing. Hit Merlin so hard he jerked his shoulders off the bed, falling back with a cry.

"Count them," Arthur growled. "Count them out loud."

He slapped Merlin on the opposite thigh.

"Three! Fuck!"

"What did I tell you about the walls in this room, Merlin?"

He slapped him again.

"Four! They aren't...they aren't sound proof," he sobbed.

"Keep your voice down."

When he reached fifteen, there was blood running into the crease of Merlin's hips. Arthur took a deep breath.

"You're bleeding," he said, because Merlin hadn't noticed. "Color Merlin?"

"Green," he choked. Held up one finger for good measure making Arthur slap him again.

"Sixteen," he cried.

At twenty, Merlin started twisting in the harness.

"Arthur," he cried out. "Please!"

Arthur hesitated. He knew what Merlin wanted now, but he wasn't sure of it, himself. He had been hard since they began but he wasn't any longer. He didn't know how to navigate this particular need of Merlin's. He could white out the noise in Merlin's head for him, but this didn't feel like sex. This felt like asking for a different kind of pain. That didn't sit well with Arthur.

"Look at me, Merlin," Arthur said. The blue eyes wandered over his face, glassy and blown out and utterly wrecked.

He couldn't fuck Merlin like this. He could feel it just looking at those eyes. Not like this. But he couldn't leave him, all the same.

He lowered himself to his knees, took Merlin in his mouth instead. Merlin shouted his name at the ceiling, his hands scrabbling for Arthur's hair. Arthur sucked him off hard, feeling Merlin's blood under his hands, slick and hot and he dug his fingers into the ropes instead. He felt it the moment Merlin began to unravel beneath him. His spine locking up one vertebrae at a time, a scream caught in his throat. Skin flushed to his ears.

He came hard and he was still crying and saying Arthur's name over and over as if he needed confirmation that Arthur was still there. Arthur hushed him. Brought Merlin's shaking thighs down from the bedposts. Merlin's legs had been elevated for far longer than Arthur would normally be comfortable with so he let them hang over the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor to undo the ties. Removed the bottle caps one at a time. Ignored the blood on his hands.

"Arthur?" Merlin whispered.

"Yes Merlin?" He replied quietly. If he was this verbal, he hadn't dropped then. Arthur felt a pang of disappointment in himself.

"Don't hate me," he said.

Arthur stopped what he was doing. Stared at the torn up skin inside Merlin's bruised thigh.

"I can't hate you Merlin," he murmured.

The ties dropped away. Arthur piled the bottle caps on the floor by his knee.

When he looked up, Merlin was looking down at him, his face tear-streaked, his eyes still swimming with them. Lashes wet against his pale, pale cheeks. He cupped Arthur's face in his magician's hands.

"Why are you crying, Arthur?" He whispered.

Arthur couldn't stop looking into Merlin's eyes. Not even after his vision of them blurred and wavered and disappeared entirely.

"I'm so sorry Merlin," he whispered back. "I'm so sorry."

Merlin kissed him. It was messy and wet and Arthur couldn't stop. They kissed even though they were both crying and neither of them could breathe. They kissed and the world stopped turning. Merlin leaning over him, Arthur slouched on the floor between Merlin's ruined thighs. They kissed and Arthur dropped, falling into that empty place where the doors fade into the walls and every surface is white, cold

Nothing.

* * *

When Arthur woke he felt a surge of panic, coming up off the bed so fast he scattered the first aid kit Merlin had opened on the mattress. 

The plastic box tumbled to the floor, gauze rolling out across the carpet.

"Merlin?" He called, pushing himself up from the bed. He tried to stand and fell, coming down hard on one knee, just as Merlin came running. 

He was in nothing but a t-shirt, limping a little, Arthur noticed, with a pang of guilt, as he dropped to the floor at Arthur's side. 

"Jesus, what happened? I'm so sorry, I just left to get you a cold towel, I nearly called Gwaine, is this what happens? Is this what it's like when I drop?" 

He was lifting Arthur, with surprising ease, rambling into Arthur's ear as he set him back on the bed. 

He started to pull away, to pick up the box on the floor but Arthur pulled him down. Buried his nose in Merlin's throat and inhaled. Held on. 

Merlin cradled him, pulling his long legs up into Arthur's lap, and that was good. It was all good. 

"I'm alright Merlin," he said, although he knew it wasn't exactly correct. But he was getting better. "Keep talking."

Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur's sweat damp hair and pressed his nose to the top of his head as he spoke. And because he was Merlin, perfect, exceptional Merlin, Arthur didn't have to tell him what he wanted to hear. 

"It wasn't long, love," he said, his accent in it's deepest register yet. Arthur liked the sound of it. The sound of Merlin, the way he was meant to sound. "Only a few minutes. I asked you why you were crying, and you couldn't stop apologizing to me. And then, you left. You went somewhere I couldn't reach you. And I didn't know what to do. I put you back on the bed but the way you'd been crouched I was worried about your hip and I should have asked you where the weighted blanket was. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't know what to do."

"You got the first aid kit out," Arthur said softly into Merlin's throat. 

Merlin was silent for a moment. His magicians fingers trailing absent patterns across the back of Arthur's neck. His shoulders. The shell of his ear. 

"It seemed...like something you would do. That's why."

Arthur smiled. 

"Tell me what happened," Merlin whispered. "Tell me what I can do."

Arthur didn't answer him for a very long time. He didn't move his face from Merlin's throat and Merlin made no move to make him. 

"Let me take care of you," he said finally, in a very small voice. 

At that, Merlin did pull back. Cupped Arthur's head in his hand so he could tip his chin up. So he could look Arthur in the face. 

Arthur blinked up at him. The world was blurry and out of focus. His contacts were askew. Merlin brushed his thumb across his cheek. Looked him in the face, his glacial blue eyes dark and concerned. 

"This is what you need?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," Arthur said with conviction. 

"We'll talk after?" 

"Yes," Arthur agreed. 

Merlin kissed him. At the corner of his eye. The corner of his nose. The corner of his mouth. 

They were soft, gentle kisses. There was no heat, no lust in them. Arthur closed his eyes. Tilted his face to Merlin's lips and let himself be cradled a moment longer. 

Then he nudged Merlin gently off his lap.   
  
Merlin went willingly, laying across the bed as Arthur slowly lifted himself off the mattress, testing his weight on his bad hip. Stiff. But manageable. He picked up the scattered contents of the first aid kit and settled himself between Merlin's legs, with his back to the headboard. And gently, pulled Merlin up onto his lap with his hands under his knees. Merlin watched him, his head tilted where he was laying, as Arthur pushed back his shirt, to reveal the black, purple bruises on the insides of Merlin's thighs. The bite marks from the bottle caps. The rope burns. The dried blood. 

He drew in a breath. Another. And then with the cold towel Merlin had brought for him, began cleaning the insides of Merlin's pale thighs. He was slow, and methodical, and Merlin was pliable and quiet under his hands. He hissed once or twice in protest, when Arthur began dabbing the peroxide on his cuts. But they were silent through the entire thing. As he applied a lavender ointment he used in the past on Merlin's bruises, Arthur felt the pieces of his mind slowly, slowly click back into place. When he gently lifted first one of Merlin's long legs to drape over his shoulder, to bandage them properly, and then the other, he was Arthur, again. 

When he was finished, he kissed the inside of Merlin's knee, and then tugged on the hem of his shirt. 

Merlin was watching him still, his eyes half-lidded. But he blinked them open, fully focusing when Arthur took a hold of his shirt. 

"There's some juice and biscuits in my office. Can you get them for me?"

Merlin nodded, slid off the bed. Arthur watched him go, white gauze wrapped his thighs. In nothing but an old band t-shirt from Arthur's days at Uni. He'd no idea where Merlin even found it. 

Then he went to his chest at the foot of the bed and jerked in surprise when he stepped on the pile of bottle caps there. In a sudden rage he kicked them clear across the room and sat down with finality on the floor, his head in his hands. 

Merlin's hands brought him back again. He heard the crack of the orange juice bottle and let Merlin tip it to his mouth. Swallowed. Swallowed again. 

"Arthur get up on the bed. Take this with you."

Something about Merlin's tone woke Arthur from his daze. He turned to look into those blue eyes. And then Arthur Pendragon did what he was told. 

Merlin set the biscuits on the side table. Pulled the covers down as Arthur got up on the bed. And then stopped Arthur from getting under them. 

"Out of your clothes. You're still in your trousers and button up. Get them off."

Arthur did. 

He went slowly, staring at the biscuits on the side table. And when he was done Merlin had brought the weighted blanket from the chest and laid it out across the bed. 

"Eat them," Merlin said. He took a swallow of juice himself and had a biscuit as if to say, 'See? They're good for you.'

He didn't remember finally laying with his back to Merlin, wrapped in all of Merlin's long limbs. The blankets pressing down on him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Merlin whispered. 

"Talk about what?"

His own tone startled him. He felt Merlin's arms tighten around his chest. He gripped Merlin's wrist in his palm, silently sorry. 

"About why you were afraid to be aroused by what we did."

Arthur stopped breathing. 

"You were," Merlin continued, rubbing a circle over his heart with his warm hand. "That's why you dropped. You wanted to fuck me but something got in the way. What were you afraid of?"

"Merlin," he rasped, humiliated suddenly. Unexpectedly. "I will always want you. I don't know how to stop wanting you. But whatever that was...it didn't feel like a scene. I was hurting you. I hurt you. Really hurt you. And I promised you I would never..."

He couldn't finish. He hated himself for it. 

Merlin pressed his face to the back of Arthur's neck. Arthur closed his eyes. 

"What I asked you to do...it wasn't fair. We never talked about this. And I never told you it might happen. That sometimes I need to go further. I need to be angry. I need someone to be angry with me."

"I know," Arthur said. Because it needed to be said. 

"But I shouldn't have done what I did. I should have told you days ago. Instead we both went into a scene and we weren't thinking clearly. Either of us. And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

"You didn't hurt me, Arthur."

He started to protest.

"No," Merlin whispered. "I was in pain, yes. But you didn't hurt me. Do you understand?"

Arthur was quiet. He wasn't sure he did. 

"You didn't hurt me Arthur."

When he didn't respond, Merlin kissed his shoulder and said. 

"On your back for me, love."

Arthur turned to look at him, frowning, but Merlin was already moving away. Arthur turned, and Merlin straddled his hips, his bandaged thighs brushing Arthur's abdomen. 

"Close your eyes."

Arthur did. Slowly. Still frowning. 

And then, gently, Merlin took his hands. Settled them on the bandages on his thighs. Guided Arthur's hands along them, brushing his fingers gently over the gauze. Finding the skin inside of his knee. The outside of his hip. And then he began to move. 

He rocked into Arthur, his hips moving in a slow, serpentine wave. Arthur gasped, and Merlin still had his hands covering Arthur's hands when suddenly, Merlin dug both of their fingers into the soft underside of his own thighs. 

Arthur's eyes flew open. 

Merlin moaned. 

Arthur could only stare. Merlin had pulled the t-shirt up to his mouth. Stuffed the hem of it between his full lips, holding it away from his erection, straining now against his flat stomach, tightening with every roll of his hips. He continued to move and trace Arthur's hands along his bandages with his own. And then, swallowing hard. Arthur squeezed. 

Merlin's body bowed in a delicious arch as he did. He let out another muffled cry. Not one of pain. 

One of pure, ecstasy. 

Arthur was so hard, so fast, it made him dizzy. He groaned, his head falling back to the pillows and he bucked up against Merlin, making the taller man hum. 

Arthur did it again, and again, until he was sure he would come, untouched, listening to Merlin's pleasure under his hands, when Merlin leaned over him, took his face in his hands and kissed him. 

His t-shirt was a wet mess between them, but they didn't notice. Arthur lifted Merlin's hips in his strong hands. Merlin seated himself to Arthur's root. 

It was all Merlin, moving against Arthur. He watched, fascinated and entranced as Merlin fucked him, felt his body falling back into place as his spine began to liquify under Merlin's hands, his mouth, his ruined thighs. 

"Merlin," Arthur hissed, tossing his head, feeling the tension beginning to break between them. 

Merlin moaned. Fucked him harder. Said, 

"Come for me, Arthur."

The words thundered down his spine. Arthur shouted Merlin's name at the ceiling, his head thrown back, and his finger tips pressed against Merlin's bruises were in reverence. A benediction. 

Merlin came hard, his nails digging into Arthur's shoulders, his cries setting Arthur's bones back into place. 

They panted into each other's mouths. Trembling a little, together. 

"You're a magician, Merlin," he whispered around a smile. "There is something about you."

"Still can't put your finger on it?" Merlin laughed a little breathlessly. 

"Not yet," Arthur grinned, running his hands up Merlin's bent spine. "But I will take whatever time you have to give me, in order to find out." 

"It's yours, Arthur," Merlin whispered into the hollow of Arthur's throat. "You know it is."

"What is?"

"All the time," Merlin said. "All the time that I have." 


	29. Very Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur tackle their greatest obstacle yet...the media.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for the wait on this new chapter! I'm so sorry it's been so long. Whether you live inside of the United States or not...it's been stressful lately for everyone hasn't it? I was admittedly having trouble with any of my creative projects, but I hope you are all well and safe and have the opportunity to enjoy a little fresh autumn air before the snows settle in. A few things before we get started:
> 
> Thank you to everyone who participated in Reader Request Month for RN7! How did that work for you guys? I had a TON of fun. And please keep an eye out as I still have some requests to fulfill! Although comments for new scenes and side stories are closed, I will be completing all of your outstanding requests (hopefully) this month.
> 
> Earlier I posted a preview of a new story I'm working on, and thank you all for your lovely comments on it. However I've actually found a story I like a little better for Merlin and Arthur. So I'll be posting a new preview soon, and I'll be taking down the old one for now. I'll be excited to announce a new Merlin/Arthur erotic romance at the end of this week! So keep an eye out!
> 
> And as always, I'm so lucky to have you. Thank you for reading, for commenting, for all of your time. Thank you 💋

* * *

The biggest hurdle they had to face in the coming days, was getting ahead of the news coverage.

They couldn't stop the white wall tide from breaking when Sigan was released from prison and his appeal hearing was filed. But they could counter it. They could make impotent any slander Merlin might face for his association with Arthur by finally going public with Merlin's financial work for Arthur's company. But they weren't ready. There were legalities to parse and make sure were all accounted for, announcements to be made and finally, the press conference, preceded by a very calculated, very public arrest of the three men who had been stealing millions from Arthur and his father before him, right under their noses.

They worked tirelessly, and Arthur's company rallied behind him. Men and women working overtime to secure a win that they all desperately needed, not for themselves, but for Arthur, whom they believed in, had always believed in, and now, for Merlin too.

One hour before the press conference was set to start at the Museum Suite in the Grange Hotel in Whitehall, Arthur and Merlin sat quietly in a private room, Leon and Gwaine standing guard outside. Merlin was hyper focused on the door. Waiting for the knock and Gwaine to come in, to tell them it was time to take their places at the head of the media storm brewing in the Museum Suite just down the hall.

Arthur was seated at a plush, wingback chair, his gaze pitched over the rims of his glasses, as he looked down at his notes. His official statement.

Merlin was kneeling at his knee, his head leaned gently against Arthur's leg, his blue eyes fixed on the door.

But despite all of his anxiety, Merlin felt safe and settled for the first time in days. The insides of his thighs ached in his fitted navy trousers, but his button up was dry, and his blue tie was pressed. His navy suit coat was hanging on the door with Arthur's black one, and he knew it was going to be the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life, but Arthur's hand was on the back of his neck, and the numbers were easy to recall in his head, and he thought that maybe, just maybe they would be able to pull this off.

They hadn't spoken about Lancelot yet. There hadn't been time. But Percival had been in touch with Gwaine, and so Merlin knew they were both safe. Still in Ireland. And Percival had agreed to stay on there, to work out of Lancelot's office in Belfast until Merlin and Arthur traveled to Armagh for Christmas in just ten days now.

He didn't ask Arthur about Cedric. He didn't want to know before the press conference. He wouldn't be able to focus if he did.

"Walk me through it," Arthur said, gently squeezing Merlin's neck.

Merlin closed his eyes.

"We'll enter with Leon and Gwaine through the side door, there will be a lot of cameras flashing when we first come in, and a lot of noise."

They had given serious consideration to leaving Leon out of the mix when they were preparing for the press conference. Leon had been photographed numerous times with Merlin and the press was familiar with his presence at Excalibur. Leon would no longer be able to claim without scrutiny that he was freelance security and not on the Pendragon payroll. He would be giving up his anonymity to stand at Merlin's shoulder. There were a lot of things to consider. In the end, Leon and Arthur surprised him, by announcing that Leon would be accepting a new position under Arthur's security team for the foreseeable future.

As _Merlin's_ head of security.

So Leon was with them, and Merlin was relieved to know that Leon would be within arm's reach, Leon who had fought for him, had taken care of him, who at one time, had kicked a camera across the street for him, pretending he had tripped on it.

Merlin smiled to himself.

Arthur ran a hand through Merlin's hair, silently giving his praise for the answer. Merlin took a deep breath.

"I will be directed with Leon to stand behind the podium, against the wall while you will be directed to the right side of it. Your Legal Director will already be there. She will speak first."

"While she's speaking," Arthur prompted. "What will you be doing?"

"Breathing," Merlin said quietly. "Four, seven, eight."

"That's good Merlin," Arthur said. "And then?"

"Then you'll speak. Then I will answer questions."

"And if you don't know the answer to a question?"

"I'll defer, if it's possible that you or your Legal Director can answer the question."

"And if not?"

"I'll tell the truth."

Arthur hummed his approval, running his hand through Merlin's curls, careful not to muss up his hair before they went out into the meeting room. Merlin was positioned very carefully on the floor so as not to wrinkle his shirt or his trousers. They were being so careful about how they touched one another, that it somehow seemed more intimate to Merlin than any other time he had laid his head on Arthur's knee. He sank into the feeling, let it warm him from the inside of his ribcage to his cold fingers, closed around Arthur's bare ankle, beneath the cuff of his trousers.

"And if you need to stop?"

"I'll button my suit coat, and Leon will lean in, as if he were informing me of something important and I will defer the podium."

"Brilliant, Merlin," Arthur said quietly.

Merlin let out a long breath. Opened his eyes.

"I know we said we wouldn't," Merlin whispered. "But do you think you could kiss me now, for luck?"

He could feel Arthur's smile on the side of his face.

"Up on your knees, love," Arthur said.

Merlin came up off his haunches between Arthur's knees and let his face be cradled by Arthur's strong hands.

"You're very brave Merlin," Arthur said against his mouth. "You're the bravest man I know."

Merlin huffed a little, smiling so he wouldn't get emotional at the sudden tenderness in Arthur's voice.

"You make it easy," Merlin said.

Arthur kissed him.

Arthur and Merlin had kissed many times in many different ways, both fleeting and for subjective eternities, ardently and in passing. They had kissed hello and goodbye and for the sheer joy of kissing. But this was a new kind of kiss for them. It was at once reverent and breakable, as though all the tension in the room might shatter them at any moment, and still they kissed. There was no feverish press of bodies, no desperate draw of comfort, although there was comfort in the spaces between their joined lips. This was something quiet and needy and entirely balanced. It was Arthur and Merlin and nothing else in the whole world between them.

They didn't linger long. As they separated, Merlin chased Arthur one last time, and kissed him quick as blinking before lowering himself back to the floor.

Arthur smiled down at him, running his thumb over Merlin's bottom lip.

"You should put your contacts in now," Merlin said softly, his hands flat on the tops of Arthur's muscled thighs.

"Go and get them for me then," Arthur commanded without heat.

Merlin smiled, kissed Arthur's bad knee impulsively, and rose gracefully to do as he was told.

* * *

Maybe it was because they were participating in a Pendragon press conference, or because Merlin was in a suit, or because there was a clear security presence in the room, but the questions Merlin fielded weren't difficult, lewd or shocking. All except one.

"Mr. Balinor, it _is_ fair to say that your work at Excalibur was not entirely a ruse, though. You were employed as an escort for years before you were employed by Camelot GIS. Weren't you?"

And although the question struck him hard, Merlin was surprisingly very calm.

"Yes, that's true."

"So what, if any, expertise do you have that would make you a fit for your current position at Camelot?"

Merlin took a beat with that question. He felt Leon shift behind him.

"I'd just like to clarify that my doctoral studies in Maths and Finance previously mentioned by Mr. Pendragon were not expertise enough?"

The reporter opened his mouth. Closed it. And then, a familiar voice. Merlin's gaze shot right to her.

"Mr. Balinor," Freya said with a smile. "When were you accepted into the PhD program at Warwick?"

"In 2013," he said.

"And how old were you?" She said. Merlin had to suppress a smile.

"Nineteen," he said.

The room erupted.

Merlin only had eyes for Freya. He hoped she would see how grateful he was. Behind him, Gwaine and Leon grinned.

He answered a few more questions, let Arthur's Legal Director reign in the commentary. Arthur announced that his official statement had been printed for anyone who wanted a copy, and to see his admin assistant at the door. And then it was over. As Merlin and Arthur were exiting with Leon and Gwaine, one of the reporters with her camera man who had been taping from the back of the suite jogged into their path, thrusting the microphone under Arthur's nose.

"Mr. Pendragon, could you spare a minute?"

Arthur put his hands in his pockets. Merlin remained silent, watching out of the corner of his eye.

"Sure," he said agreeably. "What can I do for you?"

She beamed.

"Mr. Pendragon," she said formally, transferring the mic back to her own mouth. "Tell us a little bit about how it went today for you and your new financial advisor in there."

She held the mic out for Arthur.

"I think it was a great debut," Arthur said with a winning smile. "Intrigue, stolen millions, a secret computer code? Sounds like something out of a Grisham novel, doesn't it?"

The reporter laughed, and Merlin realized that it was genuine. She wasn't just laughing for the camera. His shoulders relaxed.

"It does," she agreed.

"Lucky for us, we had Merlin on our side," Arthur said, gesturing at him. "Without his help it may have taken us much longer to figure out what was going on."

The reporter turned her sights on Merlin. But for the first time in his life it didn't feel probing or aggressive. She had warm eyes.

"Now that you've solved this mystery, what's next for you, Mr. Balinor?"

"I think I'd like to solve some less complicated mysteries for a while," he said with a grin. "Maybe investment support?" He looked at Arthur who raised an eyebrow.

"You'd be wasted on investment support," Arthur said.

"I think I'd enjoy it."

Arthur grinned. The reporter laughed. Merlin felt...safe.

The reporter thanked them for their comments and shook their hands. There were others vying for attention but Gwaine and Leon extricated them easily, and once in the hall, Freya slipped up to Arthur's side. She held a recording device up to him as they walked.

"Mr. Pendragon, care to comment on Jacob the Angel?"

Merlin kept his gaze straight ahead. Jacob the Angel was the bakery where he'd been planning to meet Gaius what felt like years ago, now.

Arthur looked at Freya. As they turned the corner down the hallway, she opened the hand that was holding her tape recorder. Between her slender fingers was a folded piece of paper.

Arthur took the tape recorder, and said,

"We believe that incident to be related to Merlin's undercover work - "

Leon snorted. Merlin elbowed him.

" - for Camelot GIS."

It was a simple, succinct statement, and when he handed her back the tape recorder, Arthur pocketed the note she had slipped him.

"Thank you Mr. Pendragon," she said. Then with a wink to Merlin, fell off of their side, to make room for other reporters trailing them to Arthur's waiting car.

It was a cacophony of noise. Just impressions of words really, nothing definitive to sound out in the crowd of people calling out questions to them. Merlin was in awe of Arthur, and his easy smile in front of the cameras, how polite he was with everyone. Merlin was certain then that Arthur could have convinced the sun to stay in the sky all night if he only asked it. He was approachable and charming and nothing he ever said felt dismissive. The reporters never asked him anything impolite.

Merlin felt his chest swelling. Leon had a hand on the small of his back, keeping him moving as Arthur slowed a little to keep pace with the reporters.

They said nothing as Leon helped him into the car. It was only another few minutes before Arthur joined him, sitting opposite Merlin in the back of the limo. George was driving today, Gwaine and Leon following in the SUV.

When the doors closed Merlin was suddenly overwhelmed.

"I can't believe we just did that," he whispered. Arthur grinned.

"You were brilliant, Merlin."

" _You_ were brilliant," Merlin laughed. He laughed some more. "I just..."

He threw up his hands, still grinning.

Arthur leaned back in his seat.

"Are you hungry? I'm hungry." Arthur said impulsively. "George?"

Merlin looked over his shoulder at George who nodded.

Before Merlin could ask Arthur was on the phone with Gwaine.

"We're going to Rules."

Merlin stared at Arthur, dumbfounded.

"Rules?" He said, forgetting momentarily that Arthur was on the phone. Arthur held up a finger.

"Yes, we'll meet you there. I know. Good."

And then he hung up. Merlin was confused. Rules was a restaurant in the heart of London. A pretty famous one at that.

"Arthur..." Merlin started. Stopped when Arthur crossed his legs, pressed his foot to the outside of Merlin's bouncing calf. Merlin settled his leg. His gaze softened.

"You and I just got done with a very public press conference. No one will look at us sideways if we're seen in public together today."

"Yeah it's just..." Merlin faltered. Suddenly, like an avalanche, he realized that there was no need to worry about Arthur being associated with him any longer. That part of their struggle was over. Merlin felt a little dizzy.

"It's just what, love?"

Merlin shook his head. His smile was answer enough. It was radiant.

Arthur's foot was still pressed against his calf. The windows were tinted, so Merlin risked dropping his hand. Brushed the warm skin of Arthur's ankle with his fingertips.

"What's Rules like?" Merlin said quietly. "I've never been."

Arthur smiled at him and Merlin felt weak.

"You'll love it," Arthur said. "It's the perfect place for a second date."

* * *

As they followed the limo toward Rules, Gwaine passed Leon a slip of paper.

"Freya passed this to Arthur in the hall."

Leon raised his eyebrows. Leaned back and unfolded the paper.

"If this is some bad fucking news Gwaine I swear to God...Can't we just let them have today? Today was a win."

Gwaine grinned, a predatory, dangerous showing of teeth.

"It still is."

Leon glanced at Gwaine and then down at the paper. He sat up suddenly.

"You're fucking kidding me," Leon said, laughing suddenly. "Let me follow up on this Gwaine, seriously I need this."

Gwaine shrugged, but he was still grinning.

"You work for Merlin now," he said. "You don't need my permission."

Leon's answering smile was a slow, sharp-edged expression. Gleeful, and full of shadows. He held up the paper between two fingers.

"Then consider this handled."

"I'll expect a report in the morning."

Leon crumpled up the paper, threw it at Gwaine. It bounced harmlessly off his temple and fell into the center console of the car.

"There's you're report."

"Probably more legible than your work," Gwaine said thoughtfully.

"Fuck off," Leon said, putting his feet up on the dash.

"I will fuck you up Leon, get your feet off my dash."

"I'll fuck _you_ up you fuck up," Leon said cheerfully.

"I...! What is that supposed to mean? I'm not a fuck up!"

Leon shrugged. "Who are you trying to convince old man?"

As they pulled up to Rules, Arthur and Merlin turned to look out of the rear view window of the limo to see the SUV come to an abrupt stop behind them, barely legally parked. Arthur glanced at Merlin. Merlin raised an eyebrow. And then, startling them both, Leon shouted, the sound erupting out onto the street, high and unchecked, and the SUV actually _rocked_.

Merlin blew out a breath.

"They'll be mad if we get out first and go inside without them," he said.

"Let them be mad," Arthur said, sliding to the door. "I'm plenty of security for the two of us."

He opened the door and stood to wait for Merlin to step out onto the sidewalk with him. Immediately people were turning to look. But no one was particularly loud or obnoxious about their interest. Arthur buttoned his coat. Merlin had to resist the impulse to take his hand and link their fingers. He ached for it, just then.

And perfect, clairvoyant Arthur, put a hand between Merlin's shoulders and gestured to the front doors of the restaurant. Under his breath, the heavy door swinging closed behind them, Gwaine and Leon scrambling out of the SUV to catch up, Arthur said,

"Whatever you're thinking, it isn't a _fraction_ of what I have planned for you tonight, Merlin."

He was grinning as he followed Arthur up to the hostess stand, hands in the pockets of his trousers because if he was left to his own devices, he was sure he wouldn't be able to stop himself from putting his hands in Arthur's hair. Kissing his mouth. Wrapping him up in all of his long arms and fuck anyone who had a problem with it.

But he could wait.

Merlin was nothing, if not very, very good.


	30. Back in the Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur celebrate their success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where do I start? I am just so blown away by all of your beautiful comments, your support. Seeing all of you react so positively to my writing has really made me so, so happy. I can't begin to describe it. 
> 
> So of course I couldn't stop writing for you. 
> 
> Please enjoy a little bit of sugar-coated, romantic fluff to get you over this week's hump, and keep an eye out for more updates and the final requests for October's RRM. Thank you all so much for all of your patience as I continue down my list of requests to fulfill. Should we do it again sometime? 
> 
> As always, stay safe and be kind. I'll be back soon 💋

* * *

When Merlin and Arthur pulled up to the Pendragon Estate that evening, Merlin thought his heart was so full it might burst. He and Arthur stepped out of the limo together, entirely unconcerned for the first time to be seen exiting the same car on the drive to Arthur's home. Just as they had been unconcerned sitting at a table in a public restaurant together, not hours earlier. Merlin was matching Arthur's brisk pace up to the grand front entrance of the Estate, hands in the pockets of his suit trousers, grinning at the snow covered walk-way.

Leon bumped his shoulder as they came up the stairs and they shared a grin as Gwaine pulled open the doors for them.

As they entered the main hall and began removing coats, Arthur turned to Merlin with a radiant smile.

"Come into the kitchen with me, I want to talk to you about dinner."

Merlin smiled, a little confused as he finished hanging up his wool coat, and unbuttoned his suit jacket.

"Dinner? We've just eaten," he glanced down at his watch. "Oh, well, I guess it's been a few hours, hasn't it?"

After they'd finished at Rules, fucking brilliant restaurant, Merlin thought, he was going to have to take Gwen there sometime she would absolutely _adore_ the Edwardian set up; they had taken a walk around Covent Garden. They talked about innocuous things. Work things. Once or twice someone stopped Arthur to have a word. And although they never touched, Merlin had felt keenly the gift Arthur was giving him for what it was:

The two of them, for the first time, out in the public eye. Just having a day, like anyone else.

There were some cameras. The tabloids hadn't disappeared and the news about Merlin's career as an escort was the hottest part of the story at the moment. But they weren't obtrusive. Merlin barely noticed they were there.

If he were being completely honest he really, really wanted to get out of his suit and tie and kiss Arthur senseless because nothing else was on his mind at the moment, least of all eating dinner. But he followed Arthur to the kitchen indulgently, still smiling to himself. Arthur could have asked Merlin to do his taxes for him and Merlin would have been happy to do so at the moment.

As they rounded the corner he jumped out of his _skin_ when Leon blew a blow-out noise maker directly into his ear just as Gwen leapt on him.

Merlin caught her, laughing, and Leon grinned with the stupid toy still between his teeth, and ahead of him in the kitchen was a table set for six, covered in paper confetti and all kinds of food, and Elyan was giving them all a slow clap, his smile nearly taking his ears.

Gwen pressed his face between her hands and Merlin still couldn't quite believe she was there.

"What's all this?" He asked her around a laugh, letting her kiss his face over and over again. Her cheeks were wet against his skin.

"Congratulations!" She said. "You were both brilliant today! I watched the whole thing. I'm so proud of you, Merlin."

Merlin hugged her again, because his throat was tight and he needed a minute. He looked up from her shoulder to see Arthur watching him, hands in his pockets, smiling fondly. And then suddenly Gwen had peeled away from him and turned to Arthur pulling him down into a hug of his own. He looked shocked and it knocked a laugh out of Merlin who accepted the fist bump from Gwaine and Leon mussing up his hair. He snatched Leon's noise maker out of his mouth and Leon grabbed for him, starting a full out chase around the big table. Elyan jumped back out of the way with a laugh as Merlin slid to a stop behind Arthur, Leon coming up short of the two of them.

"Oh come on," he said.

Arthur grinned, glancing over his shoulder at Merlin who very neatly flicked the noise maker at Leon's head. It bounced off his nose and it was Arthur, moving faster than either of them who swiftly picked Merlin up and set him down by the table as Leon charged past.

Breathless with laughter, Merlin looked up at Arthur, completely overwhelmed. He gestured at the table, at Gwaine, pulling out a chair for Gwen, and Elyan dragging Leon back to his seat in a headlock, and the paper confetti and the food, unable at the moment to frame a proper question to encompass it all.

Arthur's smile softened.

"I told you," Arthur said quietly. "Whatever you had in mind, it wasn't a fraction of what I had planned."

Merlin kissed him because he couldn't help it, completely oblivious to everyone else in the room.

They had dinner, and it took hours. Merlin was so emotionally sated he didn't think he would ever stop smiling. Gwen was laughing at something Elyan had said across the table and Gwaine was rocking his chair back on it's rear legs as he chimed in. They'd been drinking for a while now, and though it had been indulgent it wasn't excessive. Leon was chewing on a toothpick, leaning across the table a little on his elbow as he grinned at Gwaine.

After the conversation had died down some, Arthur stood to take the plates from the table, and said,

"Sorry I don't have anything for dessert. But I can make tea."

"Merlin can make ice cream in a bag," Gwen said suddenly.

Merlin was already shaking his head as the rest of them turned to him, even Arthur, plates still held in both his hands.

"No, no. No." He said, laughing.

"Yes you can," Gwen laughed, shoving him on the shoulder. "I know you can. You used to do it for me all the time."

"Like...how much ice cream are we talking exactly?" Leon said leaning across the table.

"A flour bag," Gwaine said, spreading his arms wide. "Flour-bag amounts of ice cream is the only acceptable response."

"A _freezer_ bag," Merlin said, eyeing the big man.

"So you _can_ make ice cream in a bag?" Leon prompted.

Elyan was grinning over the rim of his whiskey glass.

"Oh for fucks sake, yes. Yes I can make ice cream in a bag," Merlin said. "Happy?"

Arthur was laughing, settling dishes in the sink. Gwen's eyes sparkled.

"No," Gwaine said matter-of-factly. "Obviously this requires proof."

"And a taste test," Leon chimed in.

Merlin looked to Elyan imploringly. Elyan grinned.

"It does sound interesting."

There was a pregnant pause as Merlin rolled his eyes at them. And then standing, he began cuffing up the sleeves of his button up.

"Bunch of children, the lot of you."

The table cheered as he headed further into the kitchen.

Arthur leaned back on the sink as Merlin approached.

"Need any help?" He asked.

"Where's the mystery in that?" Merlin said with that cocky grin Arthur had missed seeing on him. The one that made Arthur want to bite Merlin until he bruised.

Arthur smiled wider.

"I could use some direction though," Merlin said, crossing his arms and sinking into his hip. "Which one of your two billion pantries has sugar and vanilla extract in it?"

"Oh well," Arthur said, pointing to the third door in a row of floor-to-ceiling pantries. "That would be number seven-hundred and fifty-three thousand, I think."

Merlin was grinning all the way to the pantry. Opened the doors and started pulling out the supplies he would need, the recipe jumping back into his head after all these years. When he made it to the refrigerator he noticed a row of fruit jams and impulsively took two of them out with the milk.

When he returned to the table he dumped three bags of what looked like mostly milk packed in ice, unceremoniously on the table before taking his seat again.

Leon picked up one of the bags, eyeing the sloshing liquid with a raised eyebrow. In fact it was two bags - a large freezer bag filled with ice and inside of that was a smaller freezer bag, filled with milk and, Leon presumed, other ingredients not readily identifiable. Gwaine was looking at one of the bags now too, and Elyan.

"I hate to break it to you, mate," Leon said, dubiously. "This isn't ice cream."

Merlin crossed his arms, smirking. Gwen looked positively mischievous as she watched. Arthur leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips tugged up by the expression on Merlin's face.

"Shake it," Merlin said.

Leon pointed at the bag. Merlin nodded.

Gwaine, Elyan and Leon all looked at one another.

They shook the bags.

Merlin leaned back to watch. It didn't take any of the three long to feel the weight if the bags change as they shook them.

"What the fuck?" Leon said, taking the bag in one of his hands and feeling the contents, now solidifying, and looked around the table at the others.

Gwaine leaned back in his chair and laughed. Elyan hefted the bag in his palm, held it up so Arthur could see. Inside the bag was what appeared to be...ice cream.

"Give it a few minutes," Merlin laughed. "Then you can try it."

Leon was still shaking the bag.

"Seriously, what the fuck?" He said. Gwaine threw a napkin at the side of his head.

He'd added strawberry jam to one of the bags, marmalade to another and left the third bag plain. After everyone had passed the bags around, inspecting the contents, Merlin took the bags and opened them up.

They passed them around, sinking spoons in for a taste. Laughing at Gwaine when he tried to hide the marmalade flavored bag under the table for himself.

It was half-past eleven when Arthur offered Gwen one of the guest rooms to spend the night. Merlin helped clear the table of the melting bags of ice and the rest of the plates. Gwaine and Elyan and Leon had filed out to show Gwen the rest of the Estate and where she would be sleeping, as Arthur came up behind him at the sink. Kissed the back of his neck.

"Are you sure you aren't a warlock?" Arthur said, teeth grazing the skin just above Merlin's unbuttoned collar.

Merlin smiled to himself.

"Mum never admitted to being a fairy queen, so I think that makes me human."

Arthur chuckled into his hair. Merlin turned to face him, sobering a little.

"Thank you," he said.

Arthur gave him a small smile. "I didn't do anything."

Merlin was looking at the floor between them. Whispered around a smile of his own,

"Don't be a prat."

"Oy!"

They both looked up as Leon poked his head around the corner holding up his phone. Arthur frowned.

"Check the news!" He called out, and then he was gone.

Merlin and Arthur looked at each other. Then Merlin let out a breath.

"You do it," Merlin said, admittedly a little worried.

Today had been a win for so many reasons, but the truth was the media could still choose to focus on Merlin's former life, on a thousand things that would cut him and Arthur in half, instead of lifting them up. Merlin didn't think he had the strength to look for himself.

Arthur swiped open his phone clicked through it with one hand. The other he kept on Merlin's hip. For a few moments there was only an excruciating silence between them. And then Arthur handed Merlin the phone.

For months now Merlin had been the center of a media firestorm, harassed on the tube, cat-called in the street, so many fucking pictures taken of him without warning. And the headlines were always cruel.

But there was a new story circulating now that was starting to overtake the others.

Merlin scrolled the articles standing up a little straighter.

**Camelot GIS Financial Advisor PhD Student at Nineteen**

**Camelot GIS Financial Advisor Cracks the Code**

**Arthur Pendragon Hires Prodigy, Camelot GIS Back in the Black**

Merlin stared at the headlines for a moment longer before leaning back against the sink, he covered his hands with his sleeves and pressing them to his face, he wept.

Arthur pulled him forward and Merlin sobbed into his chest, the sound muffled against Arthur's shirt.

"Frustrated?" Arthur murmured against his hair.

Merlin started laughing, wet through his tears and shook his head. He had no words to explain how it felt to have years of rage and tension pour out of him all at once. He pulled Arthur closer, wrapped his arms around his shoulders and cried harder. He knew, in the back of his mind he knew, this was just the first hurdle of many that they had left to cross. But it felt like they were winning, like Merlin had finally started to shed that skin that was always too tight for him, like maybe he could hold on to something good in his life for a change.

* * *

"What's this about Merlin making ice cream in a bag?"

Lancelot glanced at Percival. The two of them were sitting in an unmarked car down the block from where Cedric had been living (presumably). They were staking the place out.

"What now?"

Percival held up his phone and clarified, "Merlin made ice cream in a bag?"

"Oh," Lancelot said, turning back to the row of low rent flats down the block. "Yeah, he does that."

"What do you mean he does that?" Percival asked, incredulous. "No one just _does_ that."

Lancelot shrugged.

"Merlin does."

Percival turned back to his phone, typing away, to Gwaine maybe or whoever else had messaged him. Keeping an eye on the street, Lancelot smiled a little to himself.

Today must have been a good day, if Merlin had been convinced to make ice cream in a bag.

Just then, Cedric left the flat. Lancelot glanced at his watch. Ten to midnight.

"Jesus Christ I think this guy might be a vampire," he groused under his breath. "Get ready to move."

Percival was already pulling a small kit over his chest and securing it there. Lancelot passed him a palm flashlight. Then they checked their radio connection.

Both of them exited the car as one.

Lancelot moved casually down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road as Cedric, keeping Cedric ahead of him and in his sight at all times. Percival disappeared into the alley beside the complex Cedric had just left.

"Door has three locks," Percival's voice whispered over his ear piece. "I'm down to two."

Lancelot watched Cedric out of the corner of his eye but didn't turn his head. He kept his hands in his pockets, his head down.

"Down to one."

Cedric turned left down a side street so Lancelot kept walking past it, cutting up the next left turn instead.

"I'm in," Percival said.

Lancelot pressed the timer on his watch.

"We're three lanes up and turning left," Lancelot said. "You have ten minutes."

He could practically hear Percival's answering grin.

"See you in eight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick final note about the ice cream in a bag: This is entirely possible and very yummy however the trick of shaking the ice cream isn't instantaneous, it takes about 15 minutes for the ingredients to actually harden up. I just really wanted to write Leon's reaction to the ice cream basically materializing in front of him. 
> 
> Also you should know by now I just can't help myself when it comes to Merlin being just a little bit magical. 
> 
> If you want to know more about the origin of the ice cream in the bag trick, head over to Reader Request Month: October and check out Chapter 10, Sweet Cream. 
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


	31. Brave, Smart, Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur spend the night together before they leave for Christmas in Ireland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all so, so much for your lovely words and thoughts and ideas. I really do appreciate every comment I receive. It makes it so much easier to continue with my stories, knowing that there are people who read and enjoy them! It's been a long week already hasn't it? Every week seems long these days. So please enjoy a long chapter to take you into the weekend ~
> 
> Part of this chapter makes reference to a scene that was written for Reader Request Month: October for the RN7 Universe. The chapter referenced here is Chapter 8: Exceptional.
> 
> As always, stay safe and be kind 💋 I'll be back soon.

* * *

Merlin was feeling wired when he entered the Pendragon Estate late the next Thursday evening. All week he and Arthur had been actively avoiding direct contact with each other while the media settled down after the arrests and the press conference. He'd been called a few times on his office line to make a statement to this post or that magazine which he did, a pre-prepared statement that Arthur's legal team had sent him, in the event that the press continued to call.

By far the most stunning call he received was from the Chancellor at Warwick College, who had apparently spoken to Gaius about his return to the postgraduate program at Coventry. She thanked him for his work with CamelotGIS, expressing how his dedication to his study was a service to the college, and she would accept his reinstatement to the program with the necessary recommendations.

Merlin barely remembered putting the phone down after that call. But he received a notice of delivery later that night, of a letter of recommendation on Pendragon letterhead signed for by Gaius. After Christmas he would begin enrollment for the Spring term.

Gwen was the shining star in the center of the blur. He'd never seen her so happy. They'd spent the week packing and making arrangements for the trip to Ireland, discussing trivial things while they sat on Gwen's floor and laid out garment bags and discussed where they would fit the gifts they were bringing among their burgeoning suitcases.

But it still felt unreal to Merlin. Every so often he'd find himself glancing at his cellphone. Waiting for a text message or a photo to populate that would ruin everything.

Leon took his phone away on the drive to the Estate that Thursday.

"Stop that," he'd said, pocketing the cell. "You're making _me_ nervous."

Merlin huffed a little. Glanced out the window.

"We have a lead on the person who leaked your meeting with Gaius to the press," Leon said. "Your friend Freya came through. I'm running it down."

"The note at the press conference?" Merlin guessed.

"Yeah. I'll take care of it while you're away. So cut yourself some slack. You should enjoy the holiday."

In truth Merlin was a little wary about Leon remaining in England while he and Arthur traveled abroad. He knew Percival would be there, and Gwaine would be handing Arthur off at the airport, but it made Merlin feel vulnerable at the thought of not having Leon at his back.

He knew he couldn't ask Leon to go. Leon would, he knew he would, but he and all the others had earned a holiday too, hadn't they? And Percival was the only one of them who didn't have any family to visit for Christmas. Leon had told him that usually Percival spent Christmas with him and his mum in Wales.

When he said nothing about enjoying the holidays Leon frowned a little, heading up the long drive to the estate.

"It might have just been a fluke, you know? Cedric trying to rile you up before Sigan made a move for an appeal. We see this kind of thing all the time. Someone who thinks they have the balls to be a criminal, pulls back when the water gets too hot. Try not to dwell on it. I've got your back."

Merlin smiled half-heartedly as they parked. Reached for his laptop bag - a prop, at this point, he wasn't coming to the Estate to work after all - and said,

"I know, Leon. Thanks."

But now he was standing in the great hall and heading for the stairs and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He needed something to white out the noise. Something that would last until Christmas.

When he reached Arthur's room he entered without knocking. Arthur was standing by his desk, phone pressed to his ear. When he saw Merlin he smiled and Merlin felt the world radiate back into color. He smiled back, and closed the door gently while Arthur ended the call.

"We'll talk again in the morning. Thank you. Yes, I'll see you then. Have a good night."

When he again looked up, Arthur was staring into those glacial blue eyes, and his answering smile was an easy one.

"Hello love," Arthur said.

Merlin positively melted. He would never get used to hearing Arthur address him like that, he was sure of it.

They kissed, and Merlin let his laptop bag drop to the floor, unnoticed, and leaned into Arthur's mouth. He was sure Arthur meant it to be a quick kiss, but Merlin wasn't letting go, and by the time they'd parted they were both breathing hard.

Arthur leaned back, cupped Merlin's neck in his warm palm and looked him over, amused and a little concerned.

"Are you alright?" He said gently.

Merlin was still getting used to telling the truth when it came to questions like that. So he hesitated.

Arthur brushed his hair back off his face.

"What is it?" He asked again.

"Can we play tonight?" Merlin breathed into Arthur's collar, unable to continue looking him in the eye.

Arthur's fingers traced his jaw, trailed down the outsides of his throat. He shivered.

"Close your eyes, Merlin," Arthur said.

He did.

Arthur pressed his forehead to Merlin's and for an empty moment they were just breathing, together.

"Tell me what you need," Arthur said after the silence had gone on for some time. Merlin took in a breath.

"Something to distract me," he admitted quietly. "When I leave to get on that flight tomorrow. Something to keep me until I see you again."

Arthur pulled back, and cupped Merlin's face in his hands. Merlin let his eyes come open slowly. Looked up at Arthur and drank in the calm, strong presence of him.

They hadn't played since their romp with the bottle caps, and although Merlin's thighs were healed now there were still traces of bruising. Some small white scars that would fade over time. He knew it was the sight of these scars that Arthur had the hardest time with. They had never discussed permanent marks and Arthur considered it a failure on his part that he'd let the scene go so hard before it could be helped. But Merlin had scars like these before, from a neighbors cat when he was a boy and he knew they wouldn't last. Still, it had been a long conversation, an emotionally draining one for them, if necessary. They'd agreed that if there was ever a sign of blood again it would be an automatic red. Since then there hadn't been much of an opportunity for them to be intimate, and the only thing they'd done that even remotely resembled play for them was when Arthur let him kneel by his knee before the press conference.

Merlin hadn't planned to ask Arthur to go hard with him again just yet. It felt too much like tip-toeing where they had previously been so open and playful with each other.

But when Merlin said he needed a distraction Arthur knew what he meant was that he needed to take a beating. Something that would drown out everything else in the room except Arthur and the swing of his arm and the impact that followed.

Merlin thought Arthur might hesitate. He'd gotten to this point before with other sexual partners and his appetite for brute force was a difficult one for most once they realized how serious he was about it. Oh, it was well and fine when they spanked him or tossed him around here and there. But there was always one time Merlin pushed too hard, and he would see it in the faces of his partners every time they were together, until finally, they left.

So he braced himself for that look.

But Arthur didn't give it to him. He tilted his head, and Merlin saw the change in those blue eyes immediately. The sharpening in them that told him Arthur's headspace had shifted, ticked into a different corner of his mind like a clock changing hands. His grip tightened on Merlin's cheeks.

Merlin had never been so hard in his life, so fast.

"Look at you," Arthur said low, against his mouth. "Don't you think this is plenty of a distraction for you?"

Merlin jumped when Arthur took a hold of his erection through his trousers. Swallowed a whimper at the implication. But Arthur didn't leave any room for his imagination.

"I could just keep you this riled until you leave. Imagine it," Arthur said pulling Merlin a little forward by his grip on Merlin's face. "All night with my hands and mouth all over you, just not quite enough to find the edge you're hoping to take off. And when you leave in the morning you'll have this to keep you all, day."

As he said it, he stroked Merlin hard, looking down into his face as he did.

Merlin was _throbbing_ under Arthur's palm and he'd only just started touching him. He swallowed hard, his cheeks burning when Arthur finally stilled his hand.

"Then again," Arthur said softly, leaning back as if appraising him. He gentled his grip on Merlin's face. But there was still a wicked edge to the way he looked Merlin over as he continued. "You've been so patient for me, haven't you?"

"I..." Merlin started and stopped. Genuinely derailed by the conversation. He couldn't think straight. Arthur smiled and it wasn't encouraging. It was predatory.

"Have you touched yourself at all this week?"

Merlin looked away. He was a former escort, a damn good one at that, and he genuinely loved sex. But for some reason this was one of the topics he had trouble looking Arthur in the face and admitting to. It burned under his skin. Made him feel vulnerable.

"Look at me, Merlin, or we'll go with option one."

Merlin's gaze flashed back to Arthur's with a whine he couldn't quite hold back. Arthur smiled at him in a lazy, self-satisfied way that made Merlin immediately defiant. But he was still pinned by the heat in Arthur's eyes. If he got bratty now he didn't know if he could survive it, the entire trip to Ireland after being edged all night.

"No, Arthur," he breathed.

Arthur smirked.

Merlin bit the inside of his lip so he wouldn't say something cheeky.

"Not once?"

Merlin shook his head.

Arthur winced as if in sympathy. But he was looking at Merlin in a way that made Merlin think that _not_ touching himself in the last ten days had been a huge mistake.

"I know how much you enjoy a challenge Merlin," Arthur said. "But you really shouldn't make everything so hard on yourself."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Merlin said before he could stop himself.

Arthur's smirk widened.

"Oh, love. How hard do you want this night to be for you?"

Merlin bit his lip. Lowered his eyes.

"That's better," Arthur murmured. "Take off your shirt. Your trousers. Leave your pants. Kneel by the bed."

Merlin stumbled when Arthur let go of him. He hadn't even realized how fully he'd allowed Arthur to hold his weight for him while they were speaking. It took him another breath before he was moving, Arthur's eyes on him as he went to remove his clothes. He heard the click of the lock on Arthur's door as he unzipped his trousers, pulled his jumper over his head.

Sinking down into the carpet at the foot of Arthur's four poster bed warmed Merlin from the inside out. It was a balm to the hot ache of his arousal, which always seemed to rip though him like wildfire. This was the comfort of a heavy blanket on a cold night. It was safe. It made him feel held.

This headspace for Merlin, had always been the hardest for him to hold on to, during a scene. With anyone, even at times, with Arthur. That high floating bloom of subspace that grayed out the rest of the world and cocooned him in a shimmering skin of complete trust. It tended to lurch in and out of his grasp, when his partners would do or say something that didn't quite connect with how Merlin was feeling. But although they'd had their fair share of rough starts, Arthur was still the only partner he'd ever had that had managed to take him from the beginning of a scene and right to the end of it, walking him by the hand through that forest of clouded space in his head where there was silence, and utter abandon.

He felt the edges of it now, as Arthur cupped his jaw from beneath his chin, and tilted his head back so that he was resting against Arthur's hip, his thigh. His blue eyes were heavy as the sable fan of his lashes parted, and although he was aroused he was also calm. His shoulders relaxed.

"What are your safewords?" Arthur said.

"Red to stop, yellow for slow down," Merlin said. "Three fingers for red, two fingers for yellow, Arthur."

Arthur hummed his approval, letting Merlin's face drop from his hand. Merlin drew in a breath as Arthur took a seat beside him. Began uncoiling a length of yellow rope. He took one of Merlin's hands, gently, running his thumbs along the insides of Merlin's pale wrists before starting a simple column tie. It was quick, and Arthur was deft with his knots. They didn't speak as Arthur let the long ends of the rope drop to the ground between them, before moving to do the same on Merlin's other wrist, drawing his fingers along Merlin's shoulders as he went.

Merlin tilted his head back just a little. Closed his eyes when Arthur finished the tie on his wrist and stood, picking up the long ends of the rope from both of his wrists as he went. He tossed them high, over one of the low heavy wooden ceiling beams that doubled as hard points for them, and pulled.

Merlin hissed when his arms tightened over his head. Shifted a little as Arthur tied off the center line. If he lifted himself a little up off his heels, he could relieve some of the pressure on his hands. But if he grew tired and sat back, the ropes would dig in.

He moaned.

Arthur crouched down in front of him, his back to the foot of the bed.

"Merlin, look at me," he commanded.

Merlin's eyes opened for him.

"The knot for this tie is right above your fingers. If you stand up completely, you'll be able to reach it, and untie it yourself if you need to."

Merlin swallowed hard. It was as though his skin were glittering all of a sudden. The sensation of it made him want to cry. He held it off, as best he could. He wasn't ready to spend himself before they'd even gotten started.

"Thank you, Arthur," he whispered.

Arthur took him roughly by the chin, and crushed him with a kiss. It was possessive and claiming and Merlin let himself be devoured, his whole body ringing under Arthur's mouth.

When Arthur released him, Merlin was panting.

"You'll tell me when you're close. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," Merlin breathed.

"If you ask me to come tonight, I won't let you."

Merlin froze at that. Arthur grinned.

"If you can't manage to keep yourself from asking, you'll regret it. Am I clear?"

Merlin had to swallow his first response, which was little more than a pitiful whimper.

"Yes Arthur."

Arthur stood with a grin. Disappeared behind him.

Merlin waited, arms stretched overhead, his blue eyes fixed on the edge of the bed. Behind him Arthur was moving but he didn't dare look to see what he was doing. He took hold of the upline in his hands and squeezed hard.

The devil's tongue Arthur was holding, was a harsh tool, a single leather lash with a wide base set into a heavy handle, tapering off into a very fine point. The one Arthur owned was about 80cm long, giving him a decent reach. He rolled the handle between his palms, weighing the tool in his hands. It had been a little while since he'd used a single tail whip, and the devil's tongue was brutal when overused. Arthur didn't think it had as much sting as the silicone dragon's tail he'd used on Merlin before, but then again he'd only used that whip for eleven strikes, if he remembered correctly.

As much as they both enjoyed going hard and fast, this tool required a warm up. So Arthur stepped up to Merlin's back. Glanced at the clock. Marked the time.

Then he pressed his foot between Merlin's shoulder blades and leaned in.

Merlin gasped a little, the ropes digging hard into his wrists, his chest pressing forward as Arthur dug his heel into Merlin's back. He wasn't applying too much pressure, just enough to stretch Merlin's shoulders a little, cut an ache into his wrists. He kept the pressure high, away from Merlin's lower back and added a fraction more of his weight to the step for one slow breath before leaning back.

Merlin sagged a little, his ribcage expanding sharply. He wasn't panting exactly. Catching his breath a little. Arthur took him by the shoulders then, making him jump. When he dug his thumbs into the tense muscles of Merlin's neck and shoulders, he wasn't gentle about it. Merlin groaned, half in appreciation, half a hiss of discomfort. He was bowing his head now, giving Arthur better access, and taking the hint Arthur directed some of his rough massage down the line of Merlin's taut spine. He could tell by the way that Merlin was alternating between relaxing into Arthur's hands despite the deep press of his fingers, and tensing whenever Arthur repositioned his grip, that Merlin was anticipating what this meant. They'd played with many tools before and Arthur only warmed his back and shoulders when he was planning to use something new and particularly nasty.

He knew Merlin was well settled when Arthur could feel the temperature of his skin changing underneath his palms. Hot now to the touch. He stepped back, gave it a fifteen count to amp up the anticipation. Waited until Merlin's shoulders caved a little when he heard Arthur shift behind him.

Then he swung his arm.

He'd warmed Merlin up but he hadn't struck him yet tonight, and the whip in his hand would cut hard if Arthur put any real force behind his swing. It wouldn't break the skin, the leather was too supple for that, but when it struck it would _feel_ as though it had. That was where the devil's tongue got it's name. So for the first strike, Arthur used his whole arm to glance a blow off of Merlin's shoulder.

It seemed backwards, that the power of the whip would be muted by a heavy swing. But the sharpness of this particular tool came from quick, brutal flicks of the wrist. Akin to snapping a towel at someone. When done, the devil's tongue would pop hard against the skin, welting it immediately, sending a searing red line across any skin it connected with. And the pain would be sharp enough that it would feel like a cut.

So swinging his arm in broad strokes blunted the sting for now. The impact was heavy though, and startling still. Merlin gasped when the whip connected, rocking forward a little on his knees.

"Oh," Merlin breathed.

Arthur tipped his head back. Relished that moment. And then swung again.

This time when he struck across Merlin's shoulders, he sucked in a breath. But Arthur was still going easy on him. They continued like that for some time, until Merlin's skin was red and bruised in some places. And then Arthur shifted his body to stand with his hip to Merlin's back and took his first deliberate swing of the night.

Merlin had been in a daze, while Arthur struck him, letting the heavy impact of the toy set off his bones like the hum of a tuning fork. He'd lost track of himself in the space between those blows. It was exquisite. And then, he heard it before it registered, the snap-pop of the leather cracking against his shoulder, and the explosion of white hot pain that lifted from his skin as the whip peeled back, somehow in Merlin's mind too achingly slow to be real as it settled into a stinging, vibrating ache. He was too startled to react. Arthur snapped the whip again, and this time Merlin's back bowed away from the blow his mind still not quite caught up to what had happened.

Oh _God_ , it was perfect and it was too much and the third time Arthur finally earned a scream from him which he tried so hard to mute somehow. He couldn't, not entirely. It left him shaking in the aftermath.

Arthur flipped the handle of the whip in his palm a few times.

"Color, Merlin?" He said quietly.

Merlin swallowed.

"Green, Arthur," he whispered.

He gave a shout as the next blow connected. It was like being cut open and left raw, but the snapping sound and the impact, that bracing, stinging pop that exploded off of his bones rocked him into that void place he craved, where there was only Arthur and Merlin and the distance of a whip, between them.

Arthur struck him again, and again, and Merlin moaned around his cries, biting the rope on his wrists to stop himself from shrieking so loud that Leon or Gwaine would come to investigate, but he couldn't stop himself now. There was a nuclear bomb ticking down the vertebrae of his spine, with it came the feeling of free-fall, the reignition of all the stars in his blood lighting up all at the same time with every brutal, shredding blow.

He almost didn't recognize what was happening before Arthur started his next swing.

"Close!" He blurted, flinching into his arms when Arthur redirected the blow, and the whip cracked against the floor by Merlin's hip instead.

Arthur checked the clock. Felt a warm hot joy spread through his chest at the hands ticking away on his alarm on the nightstand. Merlin had held off so well for him. What seemed like an age ago, when they'd first started this partnership, Merlin wouldn't have been able to keep himself from orgasm without any help. It made Arthur _glow_ to see Merlin do it now. For him.

He tilted Merlin's head back to look at him. Merlin's blue eyes looked black in the dark as he gazed upside-down at Arthur. Completely relaxed, and utterly wrecked. Pupils blown. His hair damp with sweat.

His erection was straining against the fabric of his pants. There was a damp spot on them and Arthur dragged a hand down Merlin's chest, holding him under his jaw, head back, and stroked his fingers, feather light down and back up Merlin's stomach to his sternum. Making him strain against Arthur's hands, swallowing a whine.

Arthur let him go, and Merlin groaned, but he squeezed Arthur's hands when Arthur tapped his palms and when Arthur was satisfied that his fingers weren't too cold and the blood flow was still regular, he leaned down to whisper,

"You're doing so well for me," in Merlin's ear.

Merlin's shoulders caved a bit when he said it, struck hard by the emotion the words pulled out of him. Arthur ran his fingers ardently along the bruises and welts along Merlin's back and shoulders, making him flinch at the soft touch.

"Color, Merlin?"

"Green," he gasped, and Arthur could hear the tears now. "Green, Arthur."

Arthur stepped back and snapped the whip without warning against Merlin's ribcage.

Merlin shrieked, trying to drop his arm and coming up short in his ties. Arthur struck him again, and again, until suddenly,

"Close!" Merlin cried out. "Close!"

Arthur waited a beat, pulled Merlin back by his hair to get a better look at him. His thighs were trembling when Arthur let him go.

The next time took only three blows before Merlin was wailing into his arm that he was about to come.

Arthur was so hard he thought he might too.

He dropped the whip, letting the heavy handle hit the wood floor by the rug under his bed, and the impact of it made Merlin jump. Arthur smiled to himself, before drawing his hands up softly along the undersides of Merlin's arms, he began loosening the upline.

Merlin whimpered as his arms came down, sagging into his knees. The column ties on his wrists remained, and as Arthur took Merlin around the chest so he could lean back into Arthur for a moment, breathe a little, he wondered what to do with Merlin's ties next.

He tipped a water bottle to Merlin's lips, watched him swallow slowly. They had learned each other's rhythms by now, Arthur and Merlin, and he recognized the space in Merlin's eyes. He was right on the edge of letting go. It made Arthur want to _devour_ him.

When Merlin was finished drinking and limp against him, Arthur forced him forward back onto his knees, and tied his arms behind his back with the trailing ends of the ties from each of his wrists. Left wrist to right bicep. Right wrist to left bicep. It was a clean, easy tie, but it burned after not too long.

Then he pulled Merlin to his feet by his hair.

Merlin shouted at the suddenness of it, and let out a muffled cry when Arthur threw him down onto the bed. He flinched when Arthur pulled him over onto his back, tried to draw his knees up but Arthur pinned him easily, digging his fingers into Merlin's hips to still him.

Merlin whimpered, tossing his head as Arthur yanked down his pants, exposing him fully for the first time that night. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, and moaned when Arthur stroked the tops of his shaking thighs, warming the pale skin under his hands.

He knelt at the foot of the bed, and kissed the inside of Merlin's knee before buckling the spreader bar in place there. Merlin sucked in a breath as Arthur stood and again picked up the devil's tongue.

Merlin turned his face into the bed as Arthur dragged the leather over Merlin's thighs. His stomach. His aching cock. Not striking. Just touching. Merlin's breath was coming heavier now. And there was precum beading up on the head of his swollen crown but Arthur wanted Merlin desperate. He wanted to hear him beg.

He slapped the inside of Merlin's thigh, hard, making Merlin's eyes fly open with a gasp and then without pause, struck him with the whip in the same spot.

He twisted his chest away, his mouth open in a silent scream. Arthur struck him again and this time Merlin _did_ scream, his shoulders coming up off the mattress.

"Arthur," he sobbed suddenly and then, as if realizing he'd spoken, abruptly stopped.

Arthur leaned over him, bracing Merlin's head with his hands.

"What was that?" He said.

Merlin tipped his head to the side, unable to look Arthur in the eye.

"Nothing," he whispered pitifully.

Arthur was grinning.

"Are you sure?"

Merlin nodded, and Arthur allowed it, but only because Merlin was immediately crying out when he took Merlin in his hand, stroking him hard from base to tip, twisting his wrist in the way he knew Merlin liked.

"Close!"

He jerked against the spreader bar when Arthur took his hand off of him, as if trying to close his legs. He moaned in frustration as Arthur stepped back, drawing a single finger up along the underside of Merlin's straining shaft. Merlin bucked, his lower back dipping away from the sensation.

"You look uncomfortable, love. Are you sure there isn't anything you need from me?"

Merlin let out a breath like he'd been punched.

"No," he said mournfully. "Nothing, Arthur, please."

Arthur took pity on him, for the please he added, looking for any kind of mercy. So Arthur knelt back down between Merlin's thighs, and bit him.

Merlin arched, his knees pinned by Arthur's hands, writhing under Arthur's teeth as he bit down and sucked hard at the welts he'd already left behind.

Every touch now was a threat of orgasm for Merlin. Arthur only edged him twice more before he was sobbing again, unable to keep himself from hitching a breathy,

"I can't, Arthur please," twisting a little on the bed. He was outside of himself now. All he could feel was the burning ache in the cradle if his his hips, the bruises and the sharp welts and Arthur's teeth and he was so close if he thought about any of these things for too long he would come right then and there, he was sure of it.

But Merlin didn't just want to come, he wanted to be properly fucked tonight.

"Please what?" Arthur said, lazily biting another bruise into the top of his thigh.

"I'm so close," he sobbed. "I need you, Arthur."

"Need me to what, love?"

He said it so innocently, it completely demolished Merlin's sensibilities.

"Fuck me, please! Please..."

He trailed off, aware vaguely that he had managed not to end the game by asking to come and wondering how much longer he could hold out.

Not long, as it turned out.

He was aware of the spreader bar falling away, and Arthur stroking his thigh as he draped it over his strong shoulder. And then as the head of Arthur's cock pressed inside him, Merlin wailed.

"Wait! Fuck, close! I..."

Merlin was locked in an arch, and frankly Arthur was done waiting himself, so instead of stopping, he rocked inside.

He pressed his hands into the bed beside Merlin's shaking body, rolled his hips and thrust in deep, as deep as he could go, making Merlin fuck back against him, all the noise he was making reduced to short staccato moans as Arthur pounded into him.

Merlin was straining against the ropes, his hips rolling back to meet Arthur's the muscles of his thigh hard and tight on Arthur's shoulder. As Arthur fit himself fully inside Merlin, drew back and thrust in again, Merlin came hard, the top of his head kissing the mattress as Arthur continued to drive into him, chasing his own release for only a few moments more before with a sudden shout of Merlin's name he came with his forehead pressed against Merlin's sternum, mouth open against Merlin's skin.

Merlin was trembling when Arthur pulled back off him, kissing his chest, his shoulder, making him moan pleasantly before he allowed himself to be turned on his side, Arthur's hands making quick work of the ties there. 

"Are you with me, love?" Arthur whispered into the back of his neck. Merlin nodded, kissing the back of Arthur's hand just to feel the press of his skin under his lips. 

There was nothing left to occupy Merlin's exceptional mind now except this. He sank into the feeling as Arthur kissed his shoulders. Grazed them with his teeth. 

"Up with you then," Arthur said gently, his palm a comforting weight on Merlin's shuddering side. 

Merlin smiled, and went. 

* * *

Merlin was drifting long after they had showered and returned back to the deep folds of Arthur's bed. Wrapped up in Arthur's arms, absently staring at a point on the wall without seeing it. He hummed pleasantly at every pass Arthur took at his hair, running his fingers through it. Perfectly happy. Absolutely and completely sated.

So sated in fact he was giving some serious thought to going down on Arthur to get back at him for making Merlin wait so long to come, when Arthur pressed a kiss to the side of his face, and slid a small box across the covers to his hand.

Merlin blinked down at the square box. It was a little bigger than his palm, wrapped in sparkling green and gold Christmas paper. It had Nutcrackers all over it. And a very small bow in the corner. His fingers trapped it reflexively when Arthur passed it to him.

"Go on," Arthur said against the side of his face.

Slowly Merlin sat up, held the box in his lap.

"What's this?" He asked quietly, looking at Arthur as he draped one of his strong arms behind his head and leaned back, watching Merlin's face.

"I was going to wait to give it to you. But you said you wanted something to keep you until we both get to Ireland."

Merlin glanced back at the box, his throat unexpectedly tight. He carefully opened the paper, tugging the box free. Whatever was inside rattled softly when he tilted it. Slowly he pulled the top off.

Inside the box was a braided leather bracelet. He lifted it out of the tissue, ran his thumb over the smooth surface. It was the color of mahogany or chocolate or both, a beautiful warm dark richness against Merlin's pale skin. It was long enough that it would easily turn over his thin wrist twice, and already he could tell it would be soft to wear. He looked up when Arthur reached for the bracelet in his hand and turned it over without a word.

Inside the leather, each of the three strands of the braid were stamped with a single word:

**BRAVE**

**SMART**

**GOOD**

Merlin's breath caught in his throat. He remembered the permanent marker that had faded from his thigh, how disappointed he'd been when the words had finally disappeared, words Arthur had written on his skin, to remind him -

"How exceptional you are," Arthur said out loud.

Merlin surged forward, holding onto Arthur's face with both hands, the bracelet still hanging from his fingers and kissed him deeply, smiling despite himself, nipping back when Arthur sucked at his bottom lip, the two of them a grinning heap when Merlin was satisfied.

He let Arthur wrap the bracelet around his wrist, twice as he had suspected, and tied it off with a gentle hand. Merlin smiled wider, amused when Arthur put his fingers between the leather and Merlin's wrist, as he always did when he tied Merlin up.

Arthur snorted at the look. Ruffled Merlin's hair affectionately.

"Thank you," Merlin said after the moment had passed. He slipped his own fingers underneath the bracelet, feeling the words stamped there, in secret, just for him. "I love it."

Arthur pulled him closer with an arm around his shoulders. Pressed his lips to Merlin's hair.

"I'll only be a few hours behind you and Gwen tomorrow," Arthur said. "And then it will be Christmas."

Merlin buried his face in Arthur's warm neck. Tightened his arms around Arthur's chest.

"I'm going to spoil you on fish and chips and red Irish lager," Merlin said into Arthur's skin making Arthur bark out a laugh.

"Fish and chips?" Arthur mused.

"And red Irish lager," Merlin finished happily.

Arthur kissed him again, finally starting to feel the edges of sleep. Merlin too was slower to respond although his mouth was turned up in a dreamy smile.

"Don't forget," Arthur whispered, running his finger under the leather bracelet absently, his eyes drifting closed.

"I won't," Merlin promised, snuggling deeper into Arthur's side, his own eyes heavy now, watching the steady rise and fall of Arthur's breathing.

They fell asleep like that, Arthur's finger hooked in the curve of Merlin's bracelet, Merlin's open hand pressed over his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few quick thoughts here, because I've never addressed the concept of a warm up in kink play, although it's been mentioned in the story before. Warming up with a partner is about the same thing as any warm up in sports is; it's about warming the muscles, getting blood flowing and preparing for the exercise that is about to take place. But for kinksters there's another point to the warm up and that's first contact with your partner. 
> 
> No matter how experienced you are, that first touch is really important. You may have noticed that there was never a time that Arthur ever started a scene with Merlin before he'd touched him at least once. Whatever the tone of the scene, whatever the attitude of the play, this moment is grounding. A reminder that whatever happens next, you're both in it together. 
> 
> And with a tool like the Devil's Tongue that's very important. Merlin in my story is an experienced sub and has a love for impact play, so he wasn't bothered at all by the idea of this toy. But there should always be a slow period when introducing something new to gauge reactions and be sure it's working well for both of you. That's also part of the reason that Arthur takes the time to stop and change positions with Merlin, to touch him again and make sure they're both on the same page. 
> 
> So just as Aftercare is very important so is the warm up. Especially with a new partner or in the process of using a new toy. Never second guess your instinct when it comes to checking in. Everyone needs a moment to breathe, and a reaffirmation of the trust between you and your partner. 
> 
> Besides, a little softness makes the pain that much sharper when it returns.


	32. Paper Stars, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin travel to Armagh for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in Ireland! I loved writing this chapter. And there's still so much more to explore. Check back soon for the next installment, and as always, stay safe and be kind 💋

* * *

Leon drove Gwen and Merlin to the airport the next afternoon. As they were lifting their bags out of Leon's Charger, Merlin gagged a little at a sudden pressure on his neck.

He glanced down, blinking owlishly at Leon who was fixing a scarf around his neck. It was was a bandana style scarf, large enough to wrap around his neck comfortably with the tail ends hanging down his chest, the triangle point of it resting neatly against his sternum. It was a beautiful dyed royal crimson, and Merlin touched it, bewildered.

"What's all this?" He said.

Gwen was grinning up at him from under her knit cap, the pompom at the top gathering the falling snow. Leon tilted his head to the side, stroking his chin as if he were assessing a painting or the contents of his ice box.

"Just as I thought," Leon said. "Suits you."

Merlin blushed, looking down at the scarf again.

"Happy Christmas, mate," Leon said with a grin, clapping him on the shoulders. "Check in once you're settled. You know the drill."

Merlin made a small noise as Leon stepped off the curb.

"Hang on!" He said. Behind him Gwen was laughing.

Leon waved over his shoulder, ignoring Merlin to step back into the car.

"Things to do, people to trace!" He said jovially. "Happy Christmas Gwen!"

"You too, Leon!" She waved.

"Oh," Leon turned, pointing at him over the roof of the car. "That's good Cornish wool, so don't put it in the dryer you heathen."

Merlin gaped at him. And then with a mad grin, Leon was off, his black Charger fading into the blur of break lights down the stop and go lane.

Gwen was still laughing, looping her arm through Merlin's to rest her head on his arm.

"Come on then," she said. "Let's take your beautiful new scarf to see your mum."

Merlin smiled down at her, couldn't resist burying his nose in the scarf. It really was lovely. Remarkably soft, and heavy.

"Okay," he said quietly, reaching down to pick up their bags.

"He's right though you know," she said as they passed through the doors looking him up and down.

"About what?" Merlin said, coming up to the ticket line and setting their bags down to fish out his passport.

"It really does suit you," she said.

Merlin grinned.

* * *

Arthur was sitting in the cockpit with Gwaine, in nothing but his shirtsleeves, his coat and jumper tossed on the seats in the cab of the private plane. It was unusual for Arthur not to take the opportunity for silence and solitude to do some work or catch up on his correspondence, especially right before going on holiday. Come to think of it, Gwaine couldn't actually remember the last time Arthur had taken a proper holiday.

They were sitting in comfortable silence, Arthur leaning on the arm of the chair with his finger resting against his lips, when he said suddenly,

"What if it's too much?"

Gwaine turned to look at the controls so that Arthur wouldn't see him fighting down a smile.

"It _is_ too much you nutter," Gwaine said. "But not for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur said indignantly.

Gwaine barked out a laugh.

"Christ, what I mean is, you and Merlin don't do things by half measures do you?"

"No I suppose not," Arthur huffed, returning to lean back on the arm of his chair.

For a few seconds there was silence again. Nothing but the hum of the aircraft and the pressure of the wind outside.

"It might have been impulsive of me though," Arthur started up again. "I didn't discuss it with him. I just went out and got it."

Gwaine tried not to be obvious about lifting his eyes to the ceiling.

"I feel like you might be unclear about how gifts work, mate."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Most gifts can fit in a box."

"Well this one has a box of a kind, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Arthur agreed. He glanced back at his bags, thinking about the wrapped packages under his clothes. There was another pause and Arthur started,

"But maybe I shouldn't have - "

"It's okay, Arthur. They're all going to love you. And it isn't going to have anything to do with what's in those parcels."

Arthur looked away.

"Been a while since I've had a Christmas," Arthur said absently. "Coming up to this week I was starting to think I'd forgotten how."

Gwaine's gaze softened as he stared out over the empty white blue sky. Arthur had spent Christmas with Uther and Morganna in the past, but they had always been stiff, overly formal family affairs that doubled as business conferences and CamelotGIS holiday parties for Uther's Board of Executives. Arthur and Morganna had both stopped regularly attending well before Uther had died. For the last half a decade, Arthur's Christmas ritual was to call first his father and then his sister, wish them a happy Christmas, and then go back to work.

"Are you going to call her?" Gwaine asked gently.

Arthur glanced at him and then away. Sighed.

"Probably not," he said after a moment. He was tapping his phone on his thigh now.

Gwaine didn't press him on it. But he'd seen Arthur putting the package into his bag that morning, the one he'd been carrying with him since last Christmas, and the one before that. Gwaine had a moment of silence to reflect on how Leon had gone to see his brother, finally started sleeping without one of them in the house, how Elyan had broken his normally serious demeanor to fight him for a bag of marmalade ice cream, and how even if he didn't do anything with the package, the fact that Arthur had brought it to Ireland with him, made Gwaine...hopeful.

This year had been a fragile one. Cracked in so many places. But Gwaine was starting to think that magic man Merlin was all the glue they had been waiting for. It made him grin.

"I'm being serious though," Arthur was saying. "Is it too much?"

Gwaine dropped his head on the pilot's grip none too gently.

"Are we there yet?" He groaned.

Arthur punched him in the shoulder.

* * *

Hunith was coming down the sidewalk at a jog, Tom right behind her as Merlin and Gwen stepped out of the cab. They all collided in a laughing hug, Merlin desperately trying to move them out of the cabbies way as he attempted to pull back out onto the road.

"My love," Hunith said into his hair, pressing her cheek to his. He leaned down and folded her up in his arms.

Hunith was a woman of powerful personality and very small stature. Merlin fairly towered over her.

She was kissing his face as she pulled back, pressing her cold fingers to his cheeks.

"Welcome home," she said.

Merlin laughed, shook Tom by the shoulder. Gwen was grinning from where she'd wrapped her arms around her Dad's middle. Hunith ran a hand down Gwen's cheek, giving her a radiant smile.

As they headed back up the walk in a jumbled up tangle of suitcases, arms and legs, they exchanged their proper hellos and how to dos. After shucking coats and setting down bags, they settled in the parlor for tea.

"I'd offer you supper, but Merlin said Arthur would be along in an hour or so," Hunith said, pouring her Yule blend for them all. "I thought we could wait for him to join us."

Merlin smiled.

"Arthur Pendragon, eh," Tom said. "I'd never have expected to be sharing Christmas with the rich and famous."

Merlin snorted into his teacup. Gwen patted him on the back affectionately.

"Don't be dramatic, Da," Gwen said. "He's just like any other guy."

"I'm only teasing," Tom said. Hunith laughed brightly.

"Tom and I saw your headlines in the papers, love," she told him over the rim of her cup.

Tom lifted his arms, holding out his hands as though he were framing a marquis.

"Arthur Pendragon hires prodigy," Tom intoned. Merlin laughed, blushing furiously. He ducked his chin into the scarf Leon had given him, having yet to take it off. It wasn't overly bulky, and he liked the look of it against his blue Henley.

"It's nothing," he said. "I'm just glad I was able to help."

"I'd say you did more than that," Tom said, leaning back with a smile. "It seems like only yesterday you were off kidnapping my Gwen from the library, luring her away with the promise of taking out a book for her."

"Oy!" Merlin said laughing now. "Hang on, that's _not_ what happened!"

Gwen reached over and tried to cover his mouth but he was dodging her as best he could.

"Don't listen to him," Gwen said, laughing now too. "He's had a long flight."

"I have not," Merlin laughed, ducking under her hands. "And I didn't kidnap her."

"You did, love, I'm sorry to say," Hunith said, grinning at them. "But we straightened you out."

Merlin grabbed at his chest as if struck.

"Mum!"

Tom barked out a laugh.

It seemed like no time at all before the sky outside was beginning to darken. They were all lounged about on the parlor sofas, threadbare and perfectly comfy, Hunith with her legs drawn up onto the cushions beside her, Merlin slouched with his ankles crossed over her knee. Gwen was under a throw blanket with another cup of tea opposite them, Tom beside her with his arm over the back of the couch.

The conversation had died from raucous to merely joyous now. They were still catching up, sliding in and out of various domestic topics comfortably, when suddenly the doorbell rang. They all jumped. Hunith turned her head a little to look at the door and then at her watch.

"It's half six already, is it?" She said mischievously.

Merlin scrambled to his feet.

* * *

When Arthur stepped off the plane with Gwaine, Percival was leaning against a jeep parked on the private tarmac. He was grinning.

"Took you long enough," he said, tapping his watch. "You're slowing down old man."

Gwaine punched him, grinning.

"Fuck off," he said.

Arthur smirked, tossing his bags into the boot of the jeep.

"Alright," Gwaine said. "I'll be back for you both in five days. Try not to wander into a fairy wood or something while I'm gone."

Arthur snorted. They embraced, and then Percival too gave Gwaine a hug before all three of them stepped back, Percival walking around the car to open the door for Arthur.

"Right," Percival said, shifting the jeep into first and headed down the marked path to the main road. "Settle in, we have a little ways to go yet."

The drive to Armagh was a nightmare.

Arthur was not a man who startled easily. Not even after having a bomb go off within an arm's reach of him. But driving in Ireland was like playing a game of Frogger, except no one else was knew you were playing. Some of the roads were so narrow that Percival was laying on the horn as they came around tight corners to warn oncoming motorists that there was someone on the other side. Arthur jumped the first time it happened. He jumped every time after that as well, not because of the horn, but because he realized that even if Percy gave a warning honk, the person coming at them might not slow down regardless. He was sure he saw a hubcap roll by as they scraped through a particularly tight encounter with a tiny hatchback against a stone outcropping.

He felt a little dizzy by the time they'd made it to a break in the tight country pathways and onto a wider road, one with no other drivers on it. Arthur slowly, slowly relaxed.

"You get used to it," Percival told him. "How're you holding up?"

Arthur gave him a look.

Percy laughed.

The roads now were very quiet as they continued further into the country. Arthur had a moment to appreciate the stone walls covered in snow, the dotting of cottages and chimney smoke here and there. The lights in the trees. Now that he wasn't gripping the car door for dear life, he was overcome by how peaceful it was. He imagined what these hills would look like in the early Summer, at the height of Ireland's power; a deep green landscape, full fields of clover and musk rose dipping and rising along the horizon. It reminded him a little of Wales somehow. It wasn't the same nostalgia he got from breathing in the fog rich air of Camlan, or laying his eyes on the deep cool waters of the lake on his family property there. This was something similar though. He could feel the age of the land here in this place, and if someone had told him there was magic in those snow covered hills, Arthur would have believed them.

As they came down the next lane, Percival slowed the car a little, and Arthur braced himself for another swerving, honking game of chicken. But instead Percival pulled up a long drive, climbing it slowly.

Arthur leaned forward to see.

Ahead of them in the growing dark, were two buildings. A cottage on the hill, and a broad out building ahead of it. The outbuilding was painted a dark green with white trim and had a squat set of windows framing the big oak door, on which there was a hand painted sign. It read, _Closed_ in an elegant calligraphy. Arthur could make out above the door an old silver bell on a coil. An ancient door chime. As they passed this building, Arthur caught sight of a snow-laden sign hanging from a large holly tree along the drive.

"Hunith's Tea Shoppe".

Arthur turned his attention to the second building, just a little further up the hill.

It was a traditional Irish cottage, a stream bisecting it's front yard, and the back yard of the tea shoppe. Between them was a one lane bridge made of standing stone, cobbled walls on either side as they passed over. The little cottage was white, with a green door, the same green as the color of the shoppe, and a set of high latticed windows on one end, inside which Arthur could see a large tree twinkling with colored fairy lights.

There was a pretty garland on the door, with another bell, Arthur realized, hanging over the heavy wood. This one was a Christmas bell adorned with glittering golden pine cones held in place by a large bow. In every other window Arthur could see, there was a candle burning.

As Percival drew the jeep to a stop, he glanced at Arthur, who was unusually silent, staring at the cottage.

"This is it," Percy said gently.

Arthur was still taking in the sight of the property. "Give me a minute," he said.

Percival leaned back in his seat.

Arthur had no trouble picturing Merlin growing up in a house like this. It looked like it belonged on the pages of a fairy tale. And there was something light and welcoming about it, despite it's complete isolation. There was nothing around for miles. Just field and stream and tree. But Arthur got the distinct feeling that the cottage door looking down at him now, had never turned away anyone in her vigil at the top of the hill.

He took a deep breath. Suddenly, uncharacteristically nervous about making the walk to that welcoming green door.

But Merlin was waiting for him, there on the other side. So he stepped out with Percival and helped take the bags up the stone walk.

It was so quiet in the snow, he almost felt bad for ringing the bell.

There was a pause, and then a scrabbling sound and Arthur had to press his lips together to stop himself from laughing as the Merlin swung the door open to greet him.

"Arthur," he said, his breath blooming in the cold. He said it like, _Hello, love_.

Arthur's smile softened.

"And Percy!" Merlin said, stepping aside. "Come in!"

They did, letting Merlin close and bolt the big door behind them. Without giving it any thought, Arthur leaned in and kissed Merlin on the mouth as Percy set their bags down on the floor.

Merlin smiled against his lips and pulled back, brushing the snow from his bangs.

"Let me take your coats and we'll get you some tea. You must be exhausted."

"I'd have done better if you or Percival had warned me the drive up would cost me ten years of my life," Arthur said.

Merlin laughed.

"I'm so sorry," he said, trying to get himself under control as he hung their coats on the stand beside the door. "I should have mentioned, driving around here is an artform. I didn't even think anything of it."

Arthur was giving him a deadpanned look that made Merlin laugh again helplessly.

"What? I don't drive do I? There's a reason for that."

Arthur grinned. But not because of what Merlin was saying to him, because of _how_ he said it. For the first time, Arthur listened as Merlin rattled off in his own accent. The Northern Irish rolled off of him, easy and confident. Unencumbered by criticism now he was home. Arthur suspected Merlin didn't even realize he'd made the switch. He loved it immediately. He wanted to hear Merlin say things in this deep rolling register that were meant only for Arthur to hear.

Behind him Percival was grinning too, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his jeans. As Merlin led them out of the front hall, a stone entryway with a narrow carpet leading into the parlor. This was the room with the impressive latticed windows, and the tree standing in them. At the other end was an old farmers fireplace, big as the wall, still resplendent with the old iron kettle fixtures set into the stone. And in the center of the room two well loved sofas facing each other across an ancient looking trunk with iron details, which doubled as a coffee table. Arthur felt the warmth of the room in his bones, and it had nothing to do with the fire.

When they entered, everyone in the room stood to meet them. Arthur caught Gwen's eye and offered a smile for the sheer familiarity of seeing her, his eyes skipping over the man standing at her side to take in the woman rounding the couch to come to meet him.

Hunith was a small woman, to Arthur's surprise. He didn't know what made him think she would be otherwise, but something about the way that Merlin spoke about her, the few times he had, gave Arthur the impression that she was ten feet tall. Looking at her now, despite her small frame, Arthur supposed she was.

She was lithe like her son, pale and freckled like him too, though that was where the similarities ended. She had silver green eyes, the color of jade, and long windswept brown hair, which she had piled up on the back of her head, wrapped in a colorful scarf. She was in a pair of wool socks and paint streaked denim, and a long crocheted coat over her turtleneck. Her smile was heartbreaking.

Arthur let himself be pulled down into a hug. Heard Hunith's voice for the first time, a soft warm trill, that matched her son's. Arthur smiled into her shoulder.

"Welcome, Happy Christmas. I'm Merlin's mum, Hunith."

"I hear I have you to thank for the painting on my tea tin," Arthur said, pulling back.

"Ta," she said, patting him on the chest. "I'm happy you enjoyed it."

Merlin was beaming.

"This is my friend, Percival," Arthur said then, gesturing. Percy gave a wave and a charming smile. Hunith waved at the sofa.

"There's tea on. I'll just go and heat up supper now you're here. You must be starving."

Arthur and Percy thanked her, Merlin taking them around to meet Tom next as Hunith disappeared back through the door to the hall and into the kitchen at the other side of the house.

Arthur shook Tom's hand as he sat down on the sofa, reaching across the table as he did. Merlin sat down beside him, and had to stop himself from making the tea for Arthur himself.

Gwen had come around to kiss Arthur and Percy on the cheek before sitting again with her dad. They were chatting comfortably when Hunith returned, settling herself on the other side of Merlin. Percival had taken up a spot closest to the door in an armchair, holding his mug against the arm of the couch.

"Arthur, it's good to meet you," Tom said, settling himself back against the couch at Gwen's side. "I've worked with your sister. Lovely girl."

Merlin, startled, looked up. But Arthur was smooth. He crossed his legs with an easy smile. 

"What is it that you do, Tom?" Arthur said. Merlin pressed his leg discretely a little closer to Arthur's. Offering, what he didn't know. But there was a subtle change in Arthur's eyes. Something indulgent and tight. 

"I'm a restorationist. Medieval blacksmithing, mostly."

Arthur nodded, and Merlin was surprised to note that he didn't seem surprised by this information. Merlin still remembered the day Gwen told him about it. How cool he thought it was. Still did. 

"Didn't give you too hard a time, did she? Morganna runs a tight ship."

Tom laughed. "She certainly knows what she wants. But it was a pleasure, really." 

Merlin was intrigued. But before the conversation could continue, his mum spoke up next. 

"How was your trip?" Hunith asked after taking up her own mug. "Uneventful, I hope?"

Arthur laughed. "Uneventful until we made the drive into the country."

"Oh, Merlin," Hunith said covering her mouth to hide her smile. "You didn't warn him?"

Merlin threw up his hands, his blue eyes bright with laughter. "He's supposed to have a security team for that kind of thing!"

"Oy," Percival laughed from the corner. "I resent that."

They continued on good naturedly through tea and dinner, and Merlin was enamored entirely by Arthur's charm. He had to stop himself from staring too long on occasion. He still couldn't quite believe that Arthur was actually here, in his childhood home, talking to his mum. And when at last the dishes had been cleared and they'd all settled into a comfortable silence, Hunith said,

"Gwen and Tom, I've put up the guest room for you. Merlin and Arthur can have the gallery. Percival, the far sofa in the parlor has a mattress in it. I expect you all are tired. Should we reconvene for breakfast?"

They all agreed and Merlin led them back into the parlor, while the others headed in the opposite direction as they left the kitchen.

"I'll give you the grand tour tomorrow," Merlin said. "The gallery is just through here."

Arthur had been wondering what Hunith had meant when she said they could have the gallery. Heading through the parlor, there was an enormous set of oak pocket doors on the adjacent wall to the fireplace. When Arthur had seen the doors earlier, he'd assumed they were part of a side entrance to the cottage. Now, Merlin took hold of the doors and rolled them back, Arthur caught his breath.

The room was flooded with the cold natural light of the moon reflecting off the snow, sending criss cross patterns across the wood floor from the latticed windows. Hanging from the ceiling were garlands of hand painted paper stars, some of them three dimensional, and easels and canvases and old coffee tins filled with paintbrushes. There were bookshelves covered in volumes, well worn and obviously loved. Every inch of the walls not covered by bookshelves were filled with hanging canvases, paintings of all kinds, colorful and wistful and expressive. There was a wide double day bed beneath the windows, absolutely packed with quilts. And a large shape against the far wall, covered in a sheet. More canvases, maybe, Arthur thought, laid out on a desk or a narrow table.

Merlin flicked a switch by the door and instead of an overhead or a chandelier, the lights that brightened up came from iron lanterns placed around the room. They hung there like sconces, each one housing an electric candle.

Percival whistled.

Merlin smiled, a little shy. A little proud.

"This is mum's workspace," he explained. "And my classroom, before I went to college."

"Hmmm," Percival said, leaning in and rubbing his chin. "So this is the kind of place where geniuses are made."

Merlin shoved him away by the side of his face.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said laughing as Percival made a grab for him. Merlin ducked out of his reach.

"You're lucky I'm jet lagged," Percy said. "I'm off. See you both in the morning."

Merlin closed the doors behind him, and finally alone with Arthur, turned, his face flushed.

Arthur was watching him with a fond smile, hands in the pockets of his neat trousers.

"Hello, love," Arthur said quietly. "Come here so I can say it properly."

He did, and Arthur kissed him, his hand cradling the back of Merlin's skull, fingers threading through the black curls. Merlin gave him a sweet moan in reply, pulling him closer by his belt, and they laughed a little as they pulled apart. Arthur tugged on the ends of his scarf, grinning.

"This is new," he said. "I like it."

"Leon gave it to me," Merlin said with a grin. Arthur leaned back, surprised.

"Leon did?"

"Yeah," Merlin said, kissing Arthur again because he couldn't help himself. "How are you? Tired?"

"I am," Arthur admitted quietly. Merlin brushed Arthur's hair back off of his face, and smiled.

"Me too."

It was cold in the gallery, so Merlin busied himself with the wood stove in the corner while Arthur got changed. When Merlin returned from the bathroom after a short while, he found Arthur staring at one of his mother's paintings. This one was small in comparison to the others, encased in an antique oval frame carved with flowers all along the outside edge. Merlin set his things down and drew closer. Arthur glanced at him with a smile, tapping the painting with a finger.

"Is this you?" He said.

Merlin huffed a little, embarrassed. But he was smiling too.

The painting was of a hilltop and a tree. Standing beside it was a lanky boy in a coat far too big for him, billowing out around him in the wind like a cloak. He'd turned to look over his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear, his wild black hair swept over his brow. In his small fist was a book, and overhead in the sky, a bird was soaring. A Merlin, Arthur realized.

"Yeah," Merlin said. "I think I was eight or nine then. Mum had me out on one of her expeditions."

Arthur turned to him, his eyes bright behind his glasses.

"Expedition?"

"Ah," Merlin scrubbed the hair at the back of his head, turning to the daybed under the window. Arthur followed him down into the quilts, amused.

"I didn't get on well in public school," Merlin said once they'd settled under the blankets. "Mum did her best to homeschool me until I ended up at the college in Dungannon. I spent most of my time at the library, schooling myself. But whenever I got too caught up in a particular subject, she'd take me on an expedition."

Arthur's eyebrows lifted as he listened, his gaze drawn back to the painting on the wall.

"Anyway, that day I think it was a lesson on the theory of relativity."

Arthur drew back.

"Really?" He said.

Merlin laughed and the sound was bright as bells.

"No, of course not you prat. I'm good at maths I'm not Einstein."

Arthur groaned around a laugh, reaching up to cover his eyes with his hand. Merlin's eyes sparkled, linking his fingers around Arthur's waist.

"It had something to do with the bird. Thermals I think? I don't remember now."

"Your mother sounds like a force to be reckoned with," Arthur said. Merlin pressed his face into Arthur's shoulder with a softer smile now.

"She is," he said.

"What about your dad?" Arthur asked carefully. He realized with a sudden pang that he'd never asked Merlin about his family in any great detail. Maybe it was because his own family had been so tight and difficult with each other. Overly formal and not very close. Merlin tilted his head a little, revealing his face against Arthur's shoulder.

"Never knew him," Merlin said without any trace of upset. "He left before I was born. But I've had plenty of stories. Mum never shied from the topic if I asked."

Arthur was starting to realize there wasn't much in the world that Hunith Balinor shied from. He smiled down at Merlin. Kissed his brow.

"So tell me," Arthur said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the window sill. "What are we up to tomorrow?"

"Well," Merlin breathed out against him, settling his cheek against Arthur's shoulder. "I thought if you're up for it, Belfast is less than an hour to the coast. There's still a whole day before Christmas. Nothing will be closed yet. Or we could stay here and fall asleep on the sofa at tea time like old men. Whatever you like."

Arthur barked out a laugh, turning over to get a better hold on Merlin, who obliged him, pressing his nose into Arthur's sternum and inhaling deeply.

"How far is it to Dublin?" Arthur asked impulsively.

"From here..." Merlin gave it some thought. "An hour and forty maybe? Why?"

Arthur gave Merlin a pale smile.

"It's nothing. My sister lives in Blackrock, that's all."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, lifting his head a little. "Oh, do you have plans to meet her?"

"No," Arthur said quietly. "No, she doesn't know I'm here. I was only thinking out loud."

Merlin propped his chin up on the back of his hand, resting now on Arthur's chest. He was studying Arthur's face, his lips turned down.

"I could take you to Dublin after Christmas, since we're here for a few days. Mum would go. You and Percy can go to Blackrock and meet us back."

Arthur kissed him.

"Let me get up the nerve to call her first at least. Morganna and I had a go of it the last time we saw each other. She may not want to see me."

Merlin laid his head back down.

"When was the last time then?"

"At the funeral," Arthur said.

They were silent for a long time.

"What's she like?"

Arthur snorted. "Morganna? Stubborn and passionate and pig-headed. Just like the rest of us. But..."

Arthur sighed.

"But she's generous too. And kind."

"What does she do?" Merlin prompted gently.

"She's a..." Arthur smiled to himself a little, as though remembering a private joke. "She would call herself a preservationist. But she went to school for archeology. She maintains the historic sites in Ireland, occasionally finds new ones."

Merlin could hear the tension in Arthur's voice even through the affection in his words. He shifted a little to get a better look at Arthur's face before asking,

"Is that what you fought about?"

"It's always that," Arthur sighed. "Morganna has a strong business head on her shoulders, and she's smarter than I am. It should have been her taking over CamelotGIS, not me."

"She didn't want it?" Merlin guessed. He thought back to a night at Excalibur when Arthur had offered him raw honesty in the face of Merlin's rage. Something Arthur said back then taking on a new light as he continued. 

_I always thought it would be nice to be a poet._

"No," Arthur said, rubbing his eyes. "She doesn't want anything to do with it. I got angry and I shouldn't have. We haven't spoken since."

Merlin slid his hands up under Arthur's t-shirt. Warmed Arthur's ribs with his palms.

"It's not so far to Blackrock," he said softly.

"I know," Arthur said. "Thank you, Merlin."

They didn't say much else before sleep overtook them, the days travels and the holidays approaching having taken their toll. Above them the paper stars twisted gently on their fishing-line string, silent as the snow outside.


	33. Paper Stars Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur spend then day in Belfast with Merlin's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was entirely indulgent fluff. I have no other explanation for this chapter. I hope it gives you something warm to enjoy to take you into the Holidays this week, whatever those may look like for you during these uncertain times. As always, stay safe and be kind, and I'll be back soon 💋

* * *

The next morning Arthur woke slowly, Merlin practically on top of him, all their limbs tangled up in the sheets. One of the quilts was on the floor, and one of the pillows too. It didn't seem to Arthur that Merlin needed it anyway, his head a comfortable weight on Arthur's chest. He smiled at the ceiling. Brushed a hand down the back of Merlin's neck. Merlin stirred with a groan, covering Arthur's hand with his own to stop the motion.

"I'm not awake yet," he whispered.

Arthur chuckled, reaching for his glasses. Merlin lifted his head after a moment. Rubbed his eyes.

"Good morning," he said. He sounded half asleep still. Arthur kissed him.

They made their way into the kitchen, Percival ready on the sofa for them when they slid back the pocket doors. Gwen was setting the table with Hunith, Tom pouring himself coffee at the sideboard. They were all still in dressing gowns and joggers and rumpled t-shirts except for Percy who had likely been up far earlier than Arthur initially suspected. And for the first time in his life Arthur didn't feel self conscious about his glasses or being untailored in the presence of other people.

"Good morning loves," Hunith said, tipping the skillet on her stove to check the contents. "Help yourselves."

This room, Arthur thought, was his favorite room in the house. It was in the kitchen you could really feel the age of the cottage with it's slate stone floors and white painted brick walls. There was a table Hunith had pulled away from the wall beneath the kitchen window, and a turquoise painted dish hutch where the coffee and tea had been set out. Hanging from the ceiling were woven baskets and iron pots and dried flowers. And the room was filled with an endless bustle of chaotic energy. Arthur watched as Merlin reached around his mother to grab the jam from the icebox, trapping her momentarily at the sink and making her laugh as Tom lifted the cream and sugar over his head to let Gwen move past with a plate of bacon, only to have Merlin nearly collide with Tom as he turned away with the jam, making them both burst out laughing.

Arthur didn't realize he'd been staring until Percival handed him a mug of coffee and gestured to the table. He sat, and Merlin fell into the chair next to him, tucking his legs up on the seat with him. Arthur looked at him, amused and then slid his hand into the bend of Merlin's knee beneath the table. Merlin gave him a quick glance and a smile, before pouring cream into his tea and snagging a roll from the basket before Hunith had properly set it on the table.

She swatted him with her napkin and said,

"That's one, Merlin."

Without looking up from his plate Merlin lifted one finger as if in agreement. Hunith kissed him on his temple as she made her way back around the table. Arthur caught Gwen's eye. She was grinning.

"What was that about?" Arthur said quietly. Merlin glanced up.

"Hmm? The roll?"

Arthur pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. "One what?"

 _One...what?_ Merlin mouthed at him, clearly at a loss. When suddenly he seemed to get it and immediately blushed.

"Oh," Merlin said, glancing at his mother and then back to Arthur who was watching him closely, bemused. "It's an old habit. If I miss-behaved as a kid I owed her one good deed for every bad one."

He shrugged sheepishly. "But we had to both agree on it. So she'd point out the behavior and I'd either agree..."

Merlin held up a finger.

"Or not."

"What did you do if you didn't agree?"

"I'd just say so," Merlin said, clearing his throat as he leaned over the table for his tea.

"It wasn't as simple as that for him to get off the hook," Hunith said.

"Mum," Merlin protested. "No one wants to hear this."

Hunith raised her eyebrows. Arthur grinned and said,

"I do."

Hunith gestured to Arthur as if to say, _'You see?'_ Prompting Merlin to give Arthur a look of dramatic betrayal. Arthur laughed. Percival added,

"Me too."

Merlin groaned.

"If he disagreed," Hunith continued. "We'd have a debate. If he was able to convince me that he was in the right, I'd let him off. If he couldn't, he still owed me for..."

She shrugged a little helplessly. "Whatever number of deeds we were up to by that time."

"So this," Arthur held up a finger. "Was keeping track? Like a tally?"

Merlin was dutifully not looking at Arthur, reaching for the jam to spread on his roll.

"Merlin was a precocious child," Hunith agreed.

"You don't say," Percival said seriously.

Gwen snorted into her teacup.

"Mum," Merlin pleaded weakly. She smiled at her son and said nothing more on the subject as they all tucked in with their breakfast.

"What are your plans for today, loves?" Hunith asked.

Merlin tipped his tea back in a long swallow before answering her.

"We were thinking of going to Belfast for the day," he said. "Will you come?"

Hunith leaned back in her chair and pulled the curtain away from the window. The sun was blinding off the snow.

"Seems clear enough. Gwen, Tom?"

They all agreed, so after breakfast it was a musical chairs game between the guests and the one shower in the cottage. Normally something like this would have felt stressful and irritating. But Arthur didn't mind it at all. He enjoyed sitting at the table with Gwen and Tom and the others as they each took their turns in the bathroom.

By the time Arthur had gotten out of the shower, wandering back into the parlor to set his bag back in the gallery, he realized he could hear music.

Percival was standing in the doorway to the gallery, leaning his shoulder on the frame. The pocket doors had been fully opened, giving a wide open view of the room in the morning sunlight. Hunith was sitting at her easel but she wasn't painting. She had her legs folded up underneath her, much as Merlin had at the breakfast table earlier that morning. Gwen was sitting at her feet. Absently, Hunith's hand was resting on the back of Gwen's head, and both of them were looking at Merlin who was seated at the far end of the room, at an upright piano.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Arthur realized that the shape he had assumed were canvases on a narrow table beneath the sheet in the gallery was actually a piano. He stood in the doorway with Percival, his bag loose in his grip. Merlin was playing and the sound of it was ringing through the house, ebbing and flowing like a tide. He recognized the song, he thought. _So Long Marianne_ , by Leonard Cohen. Arthur knew he was right, because Hunith was mouthing the words in time with Merlin's playing.

Arthur's gaze slid back to Merlin's shoulders, moving under his jumper with every rolling motion of his wrists as he played. He was stunning, black curls still damp from his earlier shower, his head bowed only a little over the keys. Outside the wind blew the frozen snow across the empty field, the sound like tin falling over rocks, muffled by Merlin and the song. It rose to a powerful final chorus, and Merlin wasn't shy about the crescendo, and Arthur felt the soaring lift of it in his chest, that weightless push of an ocean wave bearing your body back to the shore against your will, and then it was over, the last few notes gentling to nothing as Merlin lifted his hands from the keys, leaving them in echoing silence.

Arthur swallowed.

Merlin gently lifted the cover of the piano back down over the keys, and turned to his mother, holding up one finger. Hunith reached out her arms and Merlin laughed, rising to embrace her, when he noticed Arthur and Percival standing inside the door.

"Jesus," he said a little self-consciously, straightening. "I should have been selling tickets."

Gwen twisted around, seeing Arthur and stood with a smile. Hunith placed a hand on Arthur's chest as she passed him, and Percival followed Gwen out into the kitchen trailing along behind her. Arthur still hadn't moved from the doorway. Merlin gave him a helpless shrug.

Arthur held up a finger. "That was your good deed for the day?" He said.

"Oh, well," Merlin said, glanced back at the piano and then up to Arthur. "It was pretty standard for us when I lived here. I used to play for her when she was painting."

Arthur set his bag down, crossed the room to take Merlin's face in his hands.

"That was brilliant, Merlin."

Merlin was looking at the space between them, glacial blue eyes lowered, but he was smiling.

"It's nothing," he said quietly. "Just something I used to be good at."

Arthur snorted.

"Merlin if that's you playing rusty, I can only imagine what it must have been like to hear you play it in top form."

Merlin glanced up at him, his face a little flushed.

"It's just fractions," Merlin said quietly.

"Is that all?" Arthur quipped. But he was already leaning in.

They met in the middle and Merlin closed his arms around his waist, and for a long time Arthur could do nothing but touch Merlin, with his hands, his mouth, his cheeks. Merlin obliged, letting Arthur have everything he reached for, taking what he wanted in return.

They were a little out of breath when they parted, and Arthur ran a thumb along Merlin's bruised bottom lip, giving him a wince and a laugh.

"Sorry," he said, not meaning it at all.

Merlin laughed, taking Arthur's hand and pushing up the sleeve of his dark shirt. With a wicked glance back up at Arthur, he pressed his mouth to the smooth soft flesh of Arthur's forearm, just above his wrist, and bit down. Arthur pulled in a breath, watching as Merlin sucked a bruise over the marks he made with his teeth.

When he was satisfied, Merlin kissed his wounded arm and rolled his sleeve back down.

"Now we're even," Merlin whispered.

"Oh love," Arthur said, his words hot, pressing against Merlin's ear. "Not even by half."

* * *

The ride into Belfast was an uneventful one. Merlin rode with Arthur and Percival, Tom and Gwen in Hunith's old truck ahead of them. Percival seemed to be enjoying the leisurely drive, following Hunith rather than a map. Arthur was staring out the window, watching the snowy hills roll by, absently thinking about ocean liners and dockyards and fairy rings which were just about the only things he knew about Belfast at the moment.

"Do you need to get any shopping done in the city?" Merlin asked him abruptly. Arthur turned to look at Merlin in the back seat of the jeep. He glanced at Percival, who shook his head.

"No, not necessarily. Why?"

Merlin grinned, and pulled out his mobile.

"Hey Gwen, before we go into the city, tell mum I want to go to Antrim."

Merlin laughed, glancing up at Arthur who was looking at him with an amused smile before readdressing the phone.

"Yeah, she knows where. See you soon."

"Where are you taking us?" Arthur said dubiously. Merlin shrugged, his face a perfect mask of innocence.

"Gwaine specifically forbade us from wandering into a fairy wood," Percival supplied helpfully, looking at Merlin in the rearview.

"Well, that's generally inadvisable, yes," Merlin agreed. "Lucky for you you've got a good Irish lad on your side. We're made for all sorts of things. Maths, wandering into magical woods, and negotiating bargains with fairies."

Arthur was grinning as he turned back around. Percival let out a laugh. Ahead of them, Hunith pulled her truck off an exit and despite himself Arthur put a bracing hand on the door.

Merlin leaned back in his seat and laughed at him.

"This is a pretty common tourist destination, love," Merlin said, still laughing. You don't have to worry about the roads here."

Arthur gave him a look over his shoulder and then eyed Percy who was pretending to adjust the mirrors so Arthur wouldn't catch him smiling.

It wasn't long before Hunith pulled her truck to a stop, and Arthur stepped out of the jeep, holding the door open for Merlin as Percival rounded the car. He gave Arthur a look which told him to bloody _wait_ for Percival to open the doors next time, one Merlin recognized well, having received the same look from Leon on occasion.

They crossed the gravel parking area to where Hunith, Tom and Gwen were getting out of the truck. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Merlin raise a finger to his lips, catching Gwen's eye. She smiled.

"How are we doing on waterproofs?" Hunith asked seriously. "I have some extras in the cab if anyone needs any. Now's the time."

Arthur looked at Percy and then back to Hunith.

"I think we're all set."

In truth, they had all been planning on romping about the snow covered city, so they'd dressed accordingly. Merlin thought he should have planned ahead a little better, but they were all wearing boots and none of their shoes were impractical for his surprise. The only thing that was impractical was Arthur's wool coat, but then again so was his.

They headed out toward the coastline. Arthur could hear the water now, smell the salt on the air. Walking beside him, Merlin noticed how Arthur's shoulders relaxed a fraction at the sound. Buried his nose in the red folds of his scarf and continued on.

The wind was picking up as they came to the top of a long winding road that led down the coast. Without giving it much thought, Arthur reached out an arm to steady Hunith as they walked. She was not a fragile woman and in no real need of assistance, but she gave him an amused smile all the same, and took his arm, her other hand buried deep in the pocket of her long coat.

"Thank you," she said against the wind.

"It's no trouble," he said.

She was looking up at him with those unsettling silver green eyes again, her smile bright.

"Not about this," she said patting his arm.

For a moment Arthur could only smile back, confused by the comment. And then his gaze drifted to Merlin, who was ahead of them now, bumping shoulders with Gwen.

"I didn't do anything," Arthur said quietly.

Hunith squeezed his arm.

"You know, I haven't seen Merlin in three Christmases now," she said. "I think after Sigan, he felt like he couldn't come home."

Merlin was laughing now at something Tom was telling him, his shoulders high against the wind.

"You might not think it's very much," Hunith finished with a smile. "But," she whispered conspiratorially, shaking Arthur's arm a little in her small hand, making him laugh. "I can think of only one thing that's changed."

"Merlin doesn't need my help to be extraordinary," he said. He was surprised to find that the back of his neck was hot. Embarrassed by his own honesty.

Hunith gave him a fond smile.

"You're a good man, Arthur," she said, leaning into him a little as they came down to the end of the road.

He wasn't sure what to say to that. His throat felt a little tight. But Hunith Balinor wasn't a shy woman. And like her son, she didn't mince her words. Arthur could see where Merlin had gotten his passion from, that was sure enough.

"Merlin tells me your sister is in Dublin," she said. Arthur quirked what he hoped was a convincing smile.

"Yes, she is. Morganna went to Trinity for her postgraduate work. She loved it so much she decided to stay."

"Is this your first holiday without them?" Hunith asked.

For just a moment, Arthur was unclear as to what she meant. And then he realized she was talking about Morganna, but also about Uther.

The question hammered Arthur in the chest. At his shoulder he felt the presence of Percival shifting a fraction closer. But he didn't falter, shaken as he was.

"Ah...yes, I suppose that's right. We didn't really have family Christmases so much as we hosted holiday parties. But this will be..."

He trailed off.

Hunith was looking on patiently, her eyes soft and understanding. He shook his head, because he wasn't sure how to finish.

She reached up with her free hand and turned up the collar of his coat for him against the wind.

"The firsts are always the hardest," she said, and Arthur realized that she was telling him this because Merlin couldn't. Because while Merlin had yet to stand on the barren land of permanent loss, Hunith had already crossed it. "If you need a moment to breathe love, don't feel like you have to indulge me or anyone else gallivanting all over creation with us."

Arthur let out a startled laugh. Ahead of him he saw Merlin turn to look.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

Hunith beamed, and then nudged his shoulder.

"Have a look," she whispered.

Arthur stopped walking. Beside him Percival blew out a breath.

And suddenly Merlin was there, his blue eyes bright against the grey sky.

"You showed me your causeway, in Camlan," he said by way of explanation. "This is ours."

Arthur looked out over the landscape below, an enormous valley of black basalt columns pushing up from the ground, disappearing into the green grey storm of the sea. Merlin leaned against him while he explained to Arthur and Percival about the giant Fionn mac Cumhaill, and how he'd built this columnular land bridge for the sole purpose of fighting giants in Scotland.

Percival laughed out loud.

"I'm serious," Merlin laughed too. "On a clear day you can see Scotland from here!"

"He's right," Hunith said.

"And," Tom added. "Fingal's Cave has the other half of these columns."

"I would take you down onto the steps," Merlin said. "But it's a bit of a hike in the snow."

"We don't have to hike," Arthur said. "But I wouldn't mind staying a while."

Merlin smiled.

By the time they'd made it into Belfast, it was mid afternoon. They'd spent the late morning walking along the road where the causeway could be seen, until in desperate need of some warmth they'd slipped into the Giant's Causeway gift shop for some hot chocolate before making the trek back up to their vehicles.

Now they were passing through Hill Street in the Cathedral Quarter of Belfast, Merlin pointing out things here and there as they went. Arthur took it all in, noting the bright red benches against the snow lined stones on the walkways and the rows and rows of empty flower boxes. He bet they were something to see in the summer. Merlin was excited, and more than anything else, that buoyed Arthur up with him, walking in to shops when Gwen or Merlin suggested it. Picking up pastries to walk with. Accepting tea in a paper cup from Hunith as they passed an outdoor stand.

They were moving along down the sidewalk, a cloud of happy voices and steaming cups of tea, when Arthur noticed Merlin switching his cup from hand to hand as he said something to Percival. When the hand closest to Arthur once again came free, Arthur took it, and rested it in the crook of his elbow.

Merlin sucked in a breath.

Arthur tensed. It was a reflex, nothing more, but it occurred to him suddenly that they had never done this in public before. They'd always been too concerned about press coverage. He hadn't ever discussed with Merlin what he was comfortable with in a scenario like this, where there were no cameras and no harassments dogging their heels. He looked over at the man at his side. Merlin's nose was pink from the cold, his scarf snug around his chin. His blue eyes were bright but uncertain.

"Okay?" Arthur asked quietly.

Merlin's fingers closed in the fabric of Arthur's coat, holding on. He smiled, and Arthur was helpless.

"Can you help me with something, love?"

Merlin tilted his head to the side. Listened to what Arthur had in mind. For a moment Merlin opened his mouth, and looked like he was going to protest in some way. And then he sighed with a smile, resting his head briefly on Arthur's shoulder as they walked.

"I know where we can go," Merlin said as they continued on. And then he turned to the others over Arthur's shoulder.

"Anyone hungry?" He said.

There was a chorus of agreement.

Arthur grinned.

* * *

Arthur took the party of them out to Taylor and Clay at Merlin's recommendation. It was a spacious modern restaurant inside Belfast's Bullitt Hotel and although it was busy, the staff were still able to combine tables for them in the center of the large dining room.

They stayed for hours and Merlin helped distract the table when it came time to settle the bill. There were loud protests when Arthur signed the tab, but the blonde young man only laughed at them, waving them off.

As they began their slow collection of coats and bags, Merlin noticed a woman standing a little closer to their table than would normally be appropriate and Percival was already moving to put himself between her and the rest of them. He had a smile on his face but the woman looked nervous, and in front of her, she was holding a young boy by the shoulders.

He looked to be about ten, with straight brown hair and and tawny eyes. His face was intent on Merlin's, but also uncertain. Arthur had noticed them too, and was putting on his coat slowly, watching.

"Hello," Percival said. It was friendly enough. "How are we today?"

The woman smiled but it was tight.

"Good, thank you. My son was hoping to speak with Mr. Balinor."

Merlin looked up. Hunith and Tom were watching now too. Gwen had taken up a place by Merlin's shoulder. Somehow, Merlin was still shocked when strangers picked him out of a crowd. But more surprising to him was that the woman seemed to be entirely uninterested in Arthur.

"They're on holiday, miss," Percival was saying, but Merlin was already rounding the table, putting a gentle hand on Percy's back.

"It's alright," he said. Percival stepped back.

None of them actually thought there was anything suspicious happening here. But it wasn't Percy's job to guess. Merlin glanced at Arthur who gave him a smile. Merlin turned back to the boy and his mum.

The woman looked relieved. She nudged the boy forward a bit.

"So sorry to bother you. He saw you in the window there and he insisted we come by to ask you to look at his work. He's been saying all week he won't be satisfied until he could show it to you somehow."

Merlin gave a confused smile and pulled out a chair. Sat down so he was at a level with the boy.

"Hello," he said, holding out a hand. "I'm Merlin."

The boy took his hand solemnly. "I know," he said. "I read about you in the paper. My Da says you're a genius."

Merlin smiled.

"Maybe," he said to the boy. "I have my mum to thank for that."

He pointed over his shoulder at Hunith, who waved at the boy.

"How can I help you?" Merlin said with a smile.

The boy pulled a notebook from his coat and thrust it into Merlin's hands, all at once his nerves overtaking his child's bravery.

"I found this problem in a book. But I can't tell if I've done it right. Will you look?"

The boy's mum squeezed his shoulders.

"Please?" The boy added, begrudgingly.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, flipped the notebook open.

Inside were a long string of equations, filled in calculations along the sides of the pages. Merlin leaned back as he read. Arthur watched him, his gaze warm and proud, and recognizing the look on Merlin's face, he reached into his coat lapel and produced a pen. He handed it wordlessly to Merlin who took it with a grateful smile, and then uncapping the pen with his teeth, Merlin began to write.

"Did you fill these in yourself?" He asked the boy without looking up.

The child squirmed out of his mother's grip and leaned his hands on the edge of Merlin's chair to watch him work.

"Yeah, but it got all jumbled up, here," he said, pointing further down the page.

Merlin smirked, impressed. "That's good you recognized it. It will make more sense if we add this here..."

He trailed off, the pen scratching. The boy looked thrilled.

Percival leaned in at Arthur's side.

"Think the world is ready for another Merlin?" He whispered conspiratorially. Arthur snorted.

"I'm so sorry," the boy's mum said, this time to Hunith. "It's all he could talk about for days, another Irish boy with a gift for numbers in the papers. When he saw your family in the window he wouldn't budge until we came inside."

Hunith waved her hand. Arthur could see she was discreetly drying her eyes, watching her son check a math problem for a ten year old stranger.

"I think I remember knowing someone like that once," Hunith told her happily.

"I heard that," Merlin said, but he was grinning now.

He handed the boy back his notebook, and then impulsively, took it back and scribbled something on the inside of the cover.

"This," Merlin said. "Is a secret number to a very good friend of mine. His name is Dr. Gaius. Would you believe me if I told you, I'm still learning, myself?"

The boy scrunched up his nose. Obviously, he did not. Arthur had to stifle a laugh.

"Well I am," Merlin said. "Dr. Gaius is my teacher. If you ever need a challenge, you give him a call. Tell him Merlin sent you."

The boy looked back at his mother. He said his thank yous, but of the two of them, it was the young woman who seemed to understand more than her son.

"You didn't have to do that," she said quietly.

Merlin smiled, handing the pen back to Arthur.

"It's no trouble," he said, glancing down at the boy who was engrossed in Merlin's corrections. "Your son is very gifted."

She looked down at the boy, as if she hadn't been sure of it, until Merlin said it out loud.

"I didn't catch his name," Merlin said, buttoning up his coat.

"Oh I'm sorry," the woman said with a smile, running her hands through the boy's hair. "This is Mordred."

* * *

They left the restaurant with Gwen and Percival jostling Merlin around, making jokes about his new fan club, calling him genius, making Merlin laugh and protest good naturedly. Walking behind them Hunith and Arthur remained in companionable silence with Tom.

Arthur wanted to kiss Merlin. He wished it could be easier, like it had been when he'd put Merlin's hand in his arm to keep his fingers warm as they walked down the street together. But there were still so many shadows they needed to cross first.

He didn't mind waiting. Merlin was a rapidly rising sun, and Arthur had no doubt in his mind that there would come a day when no shadow could exist in the presence of him. Arthur couldn't wait.

It was going to be a sight to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few quick notes before we end here: 
> 
> The piano version of So Long Marianne that inspired the gallery scene in the earlier half of the chapter can be found here - https://youtu.be/_yeg9sGL7bc
> 
> Although Merlin isn't singing, this was the version I listened to that stuck in my head when I was deciding what Merlin would be playing for his mother. I very much recommend giving it a listen. It will be worth your time. 
> 
> The Giant's Causeway in Belfast is a _major_ tourist destination and even in the winter you have to buy tickets to go down the road to see it. I didn't write about any of that here, because this chapter was already so heavy on description and less dialogue, and I wasn't particularly inclined to go through the motions of properly explaining the process here in the story. But it involves a trip inside the heritage museum, which is a beautiful facility, and if you ever have the chance to see it for yourself, you won't be disappointed for visiting there. The gift shop hot chocolate mentioned in this chapter is not fiction, and also a high recommend if you're visiting in the colder months.
> 
> In this part of the story Merlin mentions the Giant's Causeway in Wales as well. Although I didn't call it out during their trip to Camlan, because the boys weren't exactly off sight-seeing, Merlin is referring to the stretch of countryside that Leon drove him through to get his new business clothes to visit the offices in Camlan.
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


	34. Le Fay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas at the Balinor house!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for your sweet comments, I loved reading them all. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, full of Christmas magic, some obvious Easter eggs from the show, and one more day of unimpeded good for Arthur and Merlin. 
> 
> I'm sorry this one took me longer to complete than I intended. But there were so many things I wanted to include, that I ended up having to make some serious cut backs in the end. Otherwise you may have ended up with five full chapters to cover the Christmas holiday in Ireland 😅 
> 
> I know we've made it out of November, and I still have some RRM stories to finish. I promise I haven't forgotten! Keep an eye out for them soon! And as always, stay safe and be kind. I'll be back soon 💋

* * *

Arthur was pacing back and forth in the gallery in Hunith's home, wondering how Christmas Eve had crept up on him so suddenly. He'd thought he would have some more time to consider how to give Merlin his Christmas gift. He wanted to do it privately, in case Merlin wanted to talk about it, or flat out refuse. It wasn't the kind of gift you presented to someone in a crowd of people. But now the kitchen was being cleared, and Merlin had said they would be sitting in the parlor soon for tea and Arthur was sure if he didn't give Merlin his gift now, he wouldn't have the courage to do it later.

And then, the gallery doors rolled back and Merlin was there, blue eyes bright in the lantern glow.

"There you are, we're about to sit down for tea. Everything okay?"

Arthur swallowed.

"Yeah," he said, glancing at the red and gold box he'd set carefully on the upright piano.

Merlin followed his gaze.

"What's this?" He said, amused. "You already gave me a Christmas gift, haven't you?"

He held up his wrist to show off his bracelet with smile. Arthur smiled back.

"Close the door, will you love?"

Merlin looked at him. The air in the room felt suddenly charged, the playfulness that Merlin had brought with him evaporating suddenly at the words. Arthur watched as Merlin leaned out into the parlor, told his mum they'd be a minute and then closed the doors behind him. He stood with his back against the wood for a long moment, before approaching Arthur slowly.

"You're making me nervous," Merlin said around a smile.

Arthur huffed, looking at the floor momentarily. Merlin ducked into his line of sight and Arthur grinned.

"Sorry," he said. "Will you open it, even if you already have a Christmas gift from me?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, wandering over to the piano. He picked up the little box, no bigger than the one with his bracelet in it, and sat down on the piano bench.

"Full disclosure, this is not going to persuade me to give you your Christmas gift early," Merlin said, making Arthur laugh. "You'll just have to wait."

Arthur held up his hands as he lowered himself to the edge of the bed.

"Understood," he said fondly.

Merlin's smile was infectious as he opened the little box. He tilted his head, seeing what was inside, and looked at Arthur, confused.

"What's this to?"

Arthur held out his hand.

Merlin brought him the box, straddling Arthur's lap and watching him remove the key.

"This," he said, watching the key and not Merlin. "Fits into the front door of a house I purchased."

Finally he looked up at the man in his lap, whose blue eyes were searching his own.

"...For us," he finished quietly.

Merlin was very still in his arms. His eyes slid down to the key in Arthur's hand.

"You...bought us a house?" He said, sounding a little out of breath.

"I wanted to have somewhere that was just ours. Somewhere the press aren't aware of. Somewhere you could come back to without having to ask. You don't have to leave your apartment, or Gwen," he said gently, handing Merlin the key back. "But I wanted to give you this, if you're comfortable with it."

Merlin was staring at the key in his palm, silent for a long time.

"I think," he said quietly. "You are the first person to ever ask a man to move in with him, by purchasing an entire house."

Arthur sucked in a breath. Looked up. Merlin was laughing, but there were tears at the corners of his eyes he was desperately trying to wipe away with his fist around the silver key. Arthur laughed, unable to help himself, and took Merlin's face in his hands, helping him dry his cheeks as best he could.

"Is that a yes?" He said breathlessly.

"Yes, you prat," Merlin said. He was still laughing and Arthur kissed him.

Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck, smiling against Arthur's mouth when he fitted his hands under Merlin's knees and pulled Merlin flush to his hips.

"Can I see it?" Merlin said, still kissing him.

"Right now?" Arthur asked, dutifully _not_ running his hands up under Merlin's sweater. Fuck, but he wanted to.

"You have pictures don't you?" Merlin said pulling back. "Please Arthur?"

It was that please that did him in, every time. He chuckled, reaching back into his pocket to remove his cell.

"Be honest though," Arthur said. "If you don't like it - "

Merlin covered Arthur's mouth with his palm, giving him an arched look.

"We're both going to pretend like you weren't about to offer to buy me _another_ house if I didn't happen to like this one, yeah?"

Arthur grinned against Merlin's palm.

Merlin slowly took his hand away, as if he were planning to put it back if Arthur mentioned anything about buying more houses. And then resting his forehead on Arthur's, watching him open his phone picture gallery, Merlin said,

"Where is it?"

"Coventry," Arthur said softly.

Merlin cupped his face in his hands. Tilted Arthur's head back so he could look at him properly.

"You..."

Arthur smiled.

"I know you're meant to be finishing your degree," he said. "But - "

Merlin kissed him to stop him saying anything more.

"Shut up you prat," Merlin said, laughing against his mouth. "If you keep going I'll be a mess. And mum's waiting for us."

The house Arthur had purchased was a detached red brick one and a half story cottage on a residential lane called Poundgate, surrounded by high walls and hedgerows and English Oak trees. It had a black slate roof and shutters and inside everything was bright and open and wood floors the color of carmel. There were a set a of beautiful white French doors that led to an open atrium, entirely made of glass, from the latticed windows to the roof line. It looked as if it had been meant to be a greenhouse and had since been converted. Merlin felt like he was dreaming.

"You bought this?" Merlin whispered, swiping through the pictures. He'd turned around on Arthur's lap, was now leaning with his back to Arthur's chest so he could look on as well. Arthur settled his chin on Merlin's shoulder.

"I did," Arthur confirmed gently.

"Oh my god," Merlin breathed. Then he turned, looking positively scandalized. "How am I meant to concentrate at my lectures knowing this is waiting for me when I get home every night?"

Arthur barked out a laugh.

* * *

When the house had settled and everyone had more or less retired, Arthur found himself alone, standing in front of the Christmas tree, watching the lights blink on and off. He'd told Hunith he'd unplug it for her before he'd gone to bed. Merlin was in Gwen's room, showing off the key he'd added to his key ring, and Percival had taken a turn around the grounds, as was his custom before the house turned in for the night.

Arthur pulled out his phone, and dialed a number he'd known by heart since he'd been in his teens. Stood with one hand in his pocket counting the blinking lights flickering against the fragrant pine.

"Arthur?"

He blew out a breath.

"Happy Christmas Morganna," he said softly into the phone. "How are you?"

She was silent for so long that Arthur checked his phone screen to be sure she hadn't hung up on him.

"Happy Christmas," she said finally. "I didn't think I'd be hearing from you this year."

Her voice was gentle, and Arthur had known her long enough to know it wasn't for his benefit.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"No," she said quietly. "Are you?"

"I thought I was," he admitted. "Are you alone?"

"Yes," she said. "I had so much work to do this year, traveling with Morgause wasn't possible."

Those were excuses, he knew. The same excuses he'd have given himself, if Merlin hadn't come into his life.

"But you've been busy too. I saw the news about Camelot. Congratulations."

He gave a tight smile, side-stepping the topic of their father's company with a 'thank you' that lapsed into awkward silence.

Arthur lowered his head a little. Listened to the dead air between them. And then, impulsively,

"I've met someone."

Morganna snorted.

"Have you now?"

"Yes," Arthur said, carefully treading this rickety bridge between them. "I've come to Ireland with him. I'm in Armagh until the New Year."

"Armagh?" She said. "Isn't that up Belfast way?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "It's beautiful up here. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

_I'm sorry I didn't come when it was you, who asked me._

"While you're in Ireland you should have your someone take you to see the Cliffs of Moher. You'd like it up there. You can walk along Hadrian's Wall."

Arthur tilted his head back to look at the angel on top of the tree. Closed his eyes.

"Would you come to see it with me?"

Morganna hesitated a moment, and then,

"I'd like that."

Arthur felt his hand relax in the pocket of his trousers.

"Come to dinner tomorrow," Arthur said. "I'll get you a hotel and we can see it day after next."

"Are you making plans for other people's mum's now?" Morganna chided brightly. But he knew she would do it. It made him smile.

"Hunith won't mind," he said, knowing with conviction it would be true, and still feeling uncertain. He glanced in the direction of the kitchen, wondering if she were still about so he could ask her. "I'll ask if it'll make you feel better."

"If you can manage to find me a hotel on Christmas," Morganna said. "Then I'll make the drive. But don't be sorry if you can't. I can come see you later."

He smiled to himself. Felt someone softly crossing the parlor behind him and looked up. Merlin. Arthur waved him over.

"I'll text you the details," Arthur said into the phone.

"Alright," Morganna said. "You'd best get on then, or Father Christmas will overlook you."

"Me?" Arthur said, indignant. "What about you?"

"Get off you git," Morganna laughed. "I'll see you later."

"Later," he said.

The call ended. Merlin was perched on the arm of the sofa, watching him with a smile.

"Was that your sister?"

Arthur gave Merlin a relieved smile of his own. Now that it was over, he wondered how it had taken him so long to do it in the first place.

"It was. Do you think your mum is still awake?"

Merlin tilted his head.

"Probably. Why?"

Arthur scrubbed the hair at the nape of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"Can you...ask her her something for me?"

Merlin blinked.

* * *

Christmas was a chaotic, colorful, musical day in the Balinor household. Merlin had woken him by sucking a series of affectionate bruises into his chest and shoulders, gasping out laughs when Arthur turned him over to do the same, only to escape by running for the gallery doors and hauling them open before Arthur could get him around the waist and toss him back onto the little daybed he was growing to love.

Breakfast was in the parlor that morning, so everyone could exchange gifts while seated on the floor or on the sofas. Arthur marveled at them all, handing packages back and forth. Handing his own off. He'd never seen a Christmas morning like this one. And then suddenly Hunith was there, handing him a small wrapped parcel.

"Here, from me to you."

Immediately Arthur sat up, his first instinct to protest in some way. He'd been uncertain about what to bring Hunith himself, and undecided, he'd written her a letter inside of a hand painted card he'd picked up at a local shop in London. She'd kissed him for it, when she was through reading. But he hadn't expected anything from any of them, if he were being honest with himself. Gift giving had never been Uther's way.

"It's alright," Merlin said gently. "It's a tradition."

Arthur looked at him. Merlin was holding a similar package, and even Percival had one. Arthur took it from Hunith's hands with a grateful smile.

All of them opened the gift from Hunith at the same time.

Arthur laughed.

It was a macrame friendship bracelet. His had been done in red floss, gold diamonds down it's center, and Merlin, holding a blue and red one in his teeth, reached out to fasten it on Arthur's wrist for him.

"When I was younger," Merlin said around the bracelet in his mouth. Arthur watched, bemused. "We didn't have much to spare for Christmas. But paper and thread were easy to come by. Mum taught Gwen and I how to make these. And the paper stars on the ceiling in the gallery. Those used to hang on the tree."

Arthur took Merlin's wrist and helped him tie the bracelet next to the leather one Arthur had given him. Percival was getting help from Hunith to put on his own friendship bracelet, when Arthur stood to give her a kiss. She beamed at him. On her wrist were three, in purples, greens and blues, one from Tom, Gwen and Merlin, Arthur guessed.

"Thank you," he said.

Percival fist bumped him, showing off his wrist. His was a chevron pattern of alternating forest green and black. Arthur laughed.

And then Merlin was handing him a box, which he took with a soft smile.

"You didn't think I'd forgot did you?" Merlin grinned at him.

"You didn't have to get me anything Merlin," Arthur said. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"You don't get the monopoly on gift giving your majesty," he said. "Just open it."

Arthur returned to his seat on the floor and carefully peeled back the paper, wondering. He was a little self conscious, receiving a gift from Merlin in a room full of others. But they were a quiet presence around him. Everyone was busy with their own gifts, and there was a kind of privacy in the way Merlin was watching him. Adorably nervous and excited at the same time.

Arthur pulled off the lid.

Inside the long box was a silver chain. It was a foxtail link, so it would sit flush to the skin, flat, unlikely to roll or get tangled. And hanging from it, was a flat bar pendant. There was nothing marking it, only the solid gleam of silver in the fairy lights as Arthur lifted it gently out of the box. As he did, he noticed the weight of the pendant was off, for silver. His eyes drifted to Merlin's. Merlin smiled, held his palm under the pendant and said quietly,

"It's made of tungsten. It's the strongest metal in the world."

Arthur had to stop himself from his first reaction, which was to kiss Merlin breathless right there under the tree. Instead he pressed his cheek to Merlin's, his face momentarily hidden by Merlin's profile from the rest of the room and said,

"How exceptional you are," reverently. Only for Merlin to hear. "I love it."

Merlin shuddered. Gave him a lingering kiss to his cheek before pulling back to help him put it on. The cool metal felt right on his skin, pressed closer by Merlin's fingers. The pendant hung at the center of his chest. A calming weight against his sternum.

He did kiss Merlin then, quickly, with a smile. Merlin blushed furiously. But his eyes were bright. He was perfect, Arthur thought. Here among the colored fairy lights and happy voices and the worn velvet sofas. He would have stayed here forever, if Merlin asked it of him.

The morning passed slowly into afternoon after all the gifts had been opened and the breakfast plates washed up. Merlin was playing the piano for his mother again, who had insisted on music while she prepared dinner. Arthur and Percival had helped Merlin move the upright piano into the parlor, and it stood now against the wall leading to the kitchen.

"What about that old tune," Hunith called, unseen, from the other side of house. "You know the one."

She sang a few lines for Merlin who had leaned out toward the door to listen, smiling. Arthur was watching with a grin on his face, accepting the cup of tea Gwen offered him as she took a seat with him on the couch.

Merlin nodded to himself, testing the keys for a moment, as if getting his bearings.

"I had no idea he could play the piano," Arthur said to Gwen as Merlin, more confident now, leaned into the music.

"That's the one!" Hunith called out happily from the kitchen. Merlin chuckled and kept playing.

"Ah, yeah," Gwen said, sipping her tea. "One of Hunith's expeditions. She's very good herself, you know. But she prefers listening to Merlin play."

Arthur had no arguments there.

"Merlin told me about Hunith's expeditions. What was this one meant to teach him?"

"Fractions," Gwen said.

Arthur glanced at her, then back to Merlin.

"But he doesn't play the piano because he's good at maths," Gwen said gently.

Arthur thought he recognized the song now that it had come to the chorus. _The Girl With the Black Velvet Band._

"He genuinely loves doing it," Gwen continued, unprompted. "But when he came to London he stopped playing. This is the first I've heard him do it in years."

"Oh?" Arthur said, frowning. Gwen smiled a little sadly.

"I think he thought it would be painful for me. And we didn't have space for a piano in our little Brixton flat. Which was a far smaller flat when we first arrived."

Arthur turned fully to face her. He and Gwen were still learning how to speak openly with each other, as friends and no longer confidential clients. He leaned his arm on the back of the sofa, balanced his cup on his thigh.

"Why would it make you sad?"

She glanced at Merlin's back, her smile a little pale.

"It wouldn't have," she said quietly. "But I think he blames himself for Lance and me. We'd asked Merlin to play our first dance."

Arthur leaned his head on his hand. Again followed her gaze to Merlin, who was laughing as Percival slid onto the piano bench like Elvis and started banging out a messy tune over Merlin's playing.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said. Gwen didn't reply to his apology. Instead she said,

"Were you able to get in touch with him?"

"I was," Arthur said. "He's been very helpful, thank you Gwen."

She flashed him a relieved smile.

"I'm glad."

There was a resounding crash from the other side of the room and Gwen winced but Arthur just took a sip of his tea.

Merlin was shoving Percival off of him, breathless with laughter, while Percival scrambled up, trying to keep Merlin from regaining any purchase on the piano bench.

"Get off," Merlin laughed hysterically.

"Give someone else a turn," Percival said, holding his palm against Merlin's cheek.

"You can't play!" Merlin said, shoving Percival from where he was on his knees beside the bench. Percival didn't budge.

"You won't move him like that," Arthur said, now checking his phone.

Panting and laughing, Merlin tugged at Percival's sweater.

"What then?" He called out pleadingly to Arthur.

"I'm not encouraging this," Arthur said, but he was smiling. Gwen was looking between them, her own smile growing wider and wider as the seconds passed.

"Arthur," Merlin said.

He looked up.

No one else in the room would have recognized the difference in the way Merlin said his name. But Arthur did. The way Merlin said 'Arthur', like he was saying _Sir_.

Arthur considered him a moment longer, his smile subtle. Percival could see the tide turning already.

"Oh come on," he whined. Arthur grinned.

"His center of gravity is very low," Arthur said, and then turned back to Gwen.

"Sorry," he said to her. "You were saying?"

Percival let out a sound suspiciously like a yelp, and Arthur and Gwen turned to watch as Merlin took Percival from behind, wrapping his legs around Percival's waist and tumbling them both backwards off the piano bench.

Hunith was leaning in the doorway, her eyebrows raised.

Percival and Merlin scrambled back from each other, blushing.

"Merlin Emrys Balinor if you knock that tree down, you'll owe me until next Christmas." She held up a finger to emphasize the point.

Merlin nodded, still unable to stop himself from laughing between breaths.

Percy snickered. Merlin elbowed him. Hunith gave Arthur a mischievous smile.

"I'll accept both of your help with the dishes after supper," she said before leaving the room.

Merlin flopped back onto the floor with a groan.

Arthur laughed out loud.

Merlin was smiling at him, upside down from the floor, when suddenly the bell rang.

It startled them all. Merlin's eyes widened. Arthur rose from the sofa slowly and waited for Merlin to get up to come with him. It seemed odd for Arthur to open the door of someone else's home himself. Even if it was his guest that had come to visit.

Merlin put one hand on the latch and the other he rested discreetly on Arthur's back, before pulling open the door.

Merlin had no idea what to expect of this meeting. Until this week he had heard very little of Morganna. He'd never even seen a picture of her.

As the door swung wide, Merlin was glad he hadn't. He might have died of intimidated anticipation.

Morganna was beautiful. Merlin had often thought the word was over-used and not entirely true to context when he'd heard it before but now it was the only word that came to mind. She was tall like her brother, with the same blue grey eyes, a silver storm descending on a sunny sky. Her skin was pale all but for the color on her cheeks, partially make up, Merlin suspected and partially from the cold. Her long brown black hair cascaded around her face in gentle waves, so very different to Arthur's blonde. But Merlin could see the subtle similarities as she smiled and pulled her brother down in the doorway for a hug. It was in her smile, the way she closed her hand on his arm to remove her waterproofs as Merlin smiled politely and held the door for them.

Arthur kissed her once on each cheek once she'd come out of her coat and set her gift bags on the floor. She was in a stunning emerald green satin cocktail dress and sheer black hose, which, now that Merlin realized it, she was standing in flat footed on the carpet and still managed to look Arthur in the eye without having to tip her head back.

"Oh," Merlin said, turning to the closet by the door. "Here, you can wear these if you like, I should have mentioned it to Arthur, this house is made mostly of stone, so the floors get cold easily."

He handed her a pair of his mother's house shoes, and Morganna took them gratefully, surprising Merlin by kissing him on the cheek.

"This is your someone?" She said, looking over her shoulder at Arthur who was grinning.

Merlin blinked. Pointed at himself.

"Yes," he laughed, waving off Merlin's feigned look of confusion. "This is Merlin. My someone. Merlin, this is Morganna. My sister."

Merlin accepted the hug she reached out for. He could hear something in her accent that he didn't hear when Arthur spoke. It wasn't Irish, not exactly. But he had a sneaking suspicion that she'd been here so long that some of her words leaned in that direction. He liked it.

"Come in," Merlin said, leading her into the kitchen. "I'll introduce you to everyone and then you can catch up."

"Oh, my bags!" She waved over her shoulder at Arthur who picked them up and tossed them to her before Merlin could spirit her away.

He watched them go, hands in his pockets, amused and endlessly, endlessly grateful. Percival was leaning on the door to the parlor.

"I have just one question, mate," he said seriously. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"How the bloody hell did you find a hotel vacancy on Christmas Day?"

* * *

After she had been given the tour, hugged and kissed her way around the house and handed out the mulled wine she'd brought from Dublin for Hunith's supper table, Morganna had settled herself neatly on one of the velvet sofas beside her brother and was speaking with him with her arm resting across the back of the couch, legs tucked up underneath her skirt.

Merlin felt suddenly odd, seeing them sitting together like that. They were stunning, side by side. Something royal and otherworldly. But there was a distance between them. All that beauty but it was chilled; not cold exactly. If you didn't know the two of them were related, Merlin thought it might have been possible to mistake them for very old acquaintances and nothing more. There was an affection between them, but it was carefully erected. As if the two of them were only marginally familiar with the idea.

"Odd couple," Gwen whispered, making him jump. He snorted a laugh and followed her out into the hall.

"She's a beauty though," Gwen said. "I feel like I should have worn heels and a tiara with her floating around in that satin party dress."

Merlin smiled, but Gwen didn't have any room to talk. They'd all dressed up a little for Christmas supper. Morganna didn't look a bit out of place. Gwen had on a burgundy long sleeved knee-length dress that sat slightly off-shoulder and the white and gold shawl Merlin had given her for Christmas, to keep off the chill.

"You look amazing Gwen," he said, laughing. "Let's bring them some tea before they spontaneously combust trying to be brotherly and sisterly to each other."

Gwen tilted her head with a smile.

"You don't think they are? Being brotherly and sisterly, I mean. It seems like they're getting on."

"Yeah, I think they're happy to see each other. I just think there's still a lot they don't know how to address between them."

"They had some kind of row after their father died?" Gwen clarified, helping Merlin get out the kettle while his mother stirred a pot over the stove.

"I think it was more like a falling out," Merlin admitted. "But I'm not sure. I just want them to have a good Christmas, if they can."

"Honestly Merlin, this is just shy of a miracle. You don't have to take responsibility for anymore than that."

Merlin glanced up with a grateful smile as Percival leaned over the counter, munching on a slice of kielbasa he'd pilfered from Hunith.

"They're okay?" Merlin asked. Percival smiled.

"Yeah, mate, they're okay. Morganna and Arthur always had Uther standing between them. Now he's not there, they just need a little time to find their balance, that's all. Honestly I don't know how you managed to convince him to call her. Gwaine's been trying to get him to do it for months."

Merlin smiled down at the tea pot, then back at his mother who was smiling thoughtfully into the stew she was stirring, pretending not to hear them.

"I had help," he said, turning back to lift the tray with another round of tea, Gwen carrying a plate of biscuits.

Percival snorted as he leaned back in his chair, watching Gwen and Merlin disappear out of the kitchen.

"You sure he isn't like...a changeling or something?" Percival asked the room. Tom barked out a laugh from his place at the table, peeling potatoes.

Hunith grinned, tapping out her wooden spoon on the edge of her pot before setting it down to check her oven.

"Well there was that one time he hatched a dragon from an egg in the backyard. Called her Aithusa and set her off over the moors after she'd grown too big for the house. But I'm sure that was just a fluke."

Percival blinked. He looked from Tom to Hunith, knowing that they must be joking and uncomfortably aware that he couldn't tell for sure if they were or not.

* * *

Christmas supper was an energetic affair, like most things, Arthur was coming to realize, in the Balinor household. He could tell all the joviality was weighing on Morganna, who was bright and happy in the face of strangers, but carried shadows close at heart. So when the dinner plates were being cleared, and Percival and Merlin were busy helping wash up, Arthur gently directed Morganna into the hall, and asked her if she'd like a walk about down the lane.

It was cold and there was snow on the ground, but by all accounts it wasn't muddy or slick. The air had been too cold for that, over the last few days. They bundled up and headed out into the dark, using Arthur's phone as a flashlight as they made their way toward the one lane bridge that separated the house's yard from the tea shop.

Morganna tucked her hand into his arm and pulled up the wide hood of her dress coat. In the moonlight she looked fae to him.

"Thank you for coming today," he said into the cold air. She smiled faintly, but didn't turn to look at him as they walked.

"Thank you for asking me," she said.

It was as close to an apology as they were ever likely to get. Arthur let it hang in the air between them, not uncomfortable, for a few minutes more.

"Your someone is very sweet," she said suddenly. It made him laugh.

"Merlin? He is."

"Will he be coming with us tomorrow?" She said, turning her eyes up to his, silver in the moonlight.

"If that's alright," he said. She rolled her eyes, their boots clicking faintly on the stone bridge as they crossed.

"Of course it's alright. How long have you two been together?"

Arthur hummed a little, giving it some thought.

"You'd have to ask him that," Arthur said. Something about the holiday, and Morganna there like a dream, making him honest when he would have normally hedged on such a personal question. "We were seeing each other for a long time before we decided..."

He trailed off. The whole thing sounded juvenile to him as he said it. Like he was an awkward teenager again talking about his first crush.

Morganna smiled.

"You can tell. He moves when you do. Knows exactly when to keep his distance. But he's always aware of you. You're the same with him. I've never seen you like this before."

Arthur looked at his boots in the light from his phone. Steered Morganna around a patch of ice as they took further down the lane. He didn't know what to say to any of that. So he said nothing.

"How are things in Blackrock?" He said after they'd fallen silent again. They'd gone through these motions earlier, he knew. But Morganna understood that now, between just the two of them, and the snow, he wasn't talking about her work or her daily life.

"Quiet," she said. "Lonely."

He glanced at her.

"Morgause isn't with you?"

"She moved out some months back. Closer to our mum."

Arthur turned back to the road.

"You can always come by the Estate you know, if you need some regular faces in your life. Leon would be happy to see you."

She laughed, the sound only half right.

"Yes, I'd do very well there, wouldn't I? Reigning in your house of weary knights."

Arthur frowned.

"I didn't mean it like that, Morganna."

She sighed.

"I know. I'm sorry."

They continued on and Arthur was feeling the cold now. He glanced over his shoulder. He couldn't see the house any longer. But still the chimney smoke was coiling into the air.

"How are you doing?" She asked, squeezing his arm as they turned to make the walk back up to the cottage. It started to snow, and the delicate flakes were catching on the wide hood of her coat, and in the soft waves of her hair.

"I miss him," Arthur said.

Morganna leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked.

"So do I," she murmured. "I keep thinking he's going to call, or send a bloody email. It doesn't feel like he's gone."

"No," Arthur breathed, turning his face up to the snow. "It doesn't."

"Do you think it ever will?" She asked him.

"I don't know."

"He wasn't an easy man to love, Arthur," she said gently as they crossed the little bridge again, the cottage coming into view once more. "But he did, you know."

"Did what?" Arthur asked absently.

"Love you," Morganna said.

Arthur stopped on the road. Morganna continued moving until she was standing in front of him, her gloved hands a warm solid weight on his cheeks. He lowered his head to her shoulder.

They stood like that for a long time, and Morganna wrapped her arms around him, and they shared their grief the way they should have done when Uther passed. Back then they'd stood stoically side by side at his gravesite, unemotional, as Uther would have expected them to be.

Morganna had reached out her hand to his. But he hadn't taken it. Afraid he wouldn't be strong enough to hold himself upright, if he did. Now he held on to her just as feircly as she was holding on to him. They shook from the cold and something else, bone deep, that had been looking for the right push to break free.

"Come on," Morganna said gently, wiping his face for him with the heels of her gloved palms. "Your someone will be looking for you."

Arthur smiled at her.

"Come to London on your next holiday," Arthur said.

Morganna regarded him with a serious look, but she was smiling. He brushed a thumb under her eye to smooth out the black smudge of her mascara. She'd have skinned him alive if he'd let her walk back inside with her makeup running.

"Alright," she said, taking up her place at his shoulder, her hand tucked again in his arm. "But only if you promise to come back to Dublin more than once in a bloody year."

Arthur laughed.

"No promises there, you know how Gwaine is."

She snorted. "Do I."

"Of course I'll come," Arthur said. "Tom was singing your praises before you stopped by. I'd like to see what you're working on these days. It must be interesting, if you've called in a medieval blacksmith to help you."

"At least someone you know has some good sense," she said with a grin.

"What is it then?" He asked. "Anything I'll be reading about in the papers soon?"

She leaned against him as they walked up the short path to the front door. Inside someone was playing the piano.

"It's the strangest thing," Morganna said as Arthur reached to open the door for her. "A sword from the 13th century, lying at the bottom of a lake-burst."

"A lake burst?" Arthur said, unfamiliar with the term.

"It happens when the ground is struck in the right place at the right time, and water floods into an area, creating a new body."

"Huh," Arthur said. "How did your lake-burst happen?"

"While we were digging," she said. "After we freed the sword."

"You're putting me on," he said, closing the door behind her.

Morganna laughed, peeling off her coat, letting it fall off of her shoulders.

"I am not, you can ask Tom."

"I'm going to ask him," Arthur said, hanging up first his coat and then hers.

"Go on then," she said.

"I will."

"Mind you do," she grinned.

Arthur grinned back. From around the corner Merlin appeared, called by the sound of the door. He smiled and it was radiant. Cold forgotten, Arthur nodded and Merlin came into the hall.

"Dessert?" He asked, gesturing to the parlor.

Morganna hummed, straightening her dress, sliding back into her borrowed house shoes.

"That sounds amazing," she said. "Is Gwen in the parlor?"

Merlin blinked.

"Yes, she's in there," he said uncertainly, an amused smile creeping up on his face. "Everything alright?"

"Oh I just have to ask her where she got that beautiful dress she's wearing," Morganna said, waving over her shoulder as she made for the door to the parlor. "Before I forget."

Merlin raised his eyebrows at Arthur after she'd gone. Arthur let out a breath and a laugh at the same time.

"Come here," Merlin said. "Everyone is in the parlor, and I haven't kissed you properly all day."

Arthur let himself be tugged into the kitchen, smiling broadly against Merlin's mouth when Merlin rounded on him, barely out of the hall.

Arthur pressed Merlin up against the little turquoise hutch in the corner, and let him have his fill, his mind conjuring images of a sun filled bedroom in a red brick house and Merlin's glacial blue eyes looking up at him, in the way he only did for Arthur.

Against his skin, the tungsten pendant was warm under Merlin's hand.


	35. The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin spend the day on Ireland's West coast with Morganna and Percival.

* * *

That night when the house and gone to bed and Morganna was on her way to her hotel, Percival driving her so that he could familiarize himself with the route they would take to collect her in the morning, Merlin locked the gallery door audibly.

Arthur looked up, just fitting his glasses into place, his jumper on the bed, his hand poised to finish loosening his tie.

There hadn't even been a thought to doing anything much more intimate than a stolen hot kiss in the kitchen, or in the daybed early in the mornings, while they were visiting in Hunith's house. It was an old drafty cottage, and sound carried across the stone. And besides that, Arthur wouldn't have thought to put Merlin into a compromising position in the place where he'd grown up, filled with friends and family.

But Merlin was looking at him hungrily now, his back pressed to the gallery door, looking for _his_ permission, as much as Arthur was looking for Merlin's.

They met in the center of the room, Merlin pulling him in by his tie, forcing his fingers into the knot while Arthur yanked at Merlin's belt, their mouths open and pressing for each other.

Arthur smiled a little at Merlin's sharp breath when he yanked the belt free and tossed it without looking, onto the bed so that it wouldn't strike the floor. He tucked his fingers into the waistband of Merlin's tight jeans, feeling the heat of him, and jerked him closer, making Merlin laugh into his mouth.

"I've missed you," Merlin said, pulling back to slide Arthur's tie from beneath his collar, his glacial blue eyes bright.

"You've had me all week," Arthur said, kissing Merlin's throat, knowing that wasn't what he meant at all.

He let Merlin undo the buttons of his shirt, and push it wide, pressing his mouth to Arthur's shoulders, the hollow between his collarbones.

"Don't be a clotpole," he whispered affectionately.

In that moment, Arthur had time to realize that their lovemaking had, up until then, been largely calculated. They both enjoyed it that way, taking long drawn out sessions to give each other everything they needed because they knew there may be long stretches of time before they could do it again. But they had spent days in each other's orbit, touching, kissing, entirely at ease and now, Arthur knew that if Merlin took him into his mouth in this moment, dropping to his knees on the stone, he wouldn't last.

He was so hard and wanted Merlin so much he hadn't even realized it. He tipped his head back and savored the feeling, the tight curl of muscle in the cradle of his hips, before he reached down and fisted a hand in Merlin's hair.

Merlin swallowed the noise he wanted to make when Arthur pulled him back up to his feet by his hair.

"What?" He asked, pressing his mouth to the pendant hanging against Arthur's sternum, then higher, just under his jaw.

Arthur drew him back to the day bed, into the glow of the stove.

"I want to hear it," Arthur said, turning Merlin to face the bed, drawing his hands up to pull Merlin's jumper over his head.

"Hear what?" Merlin murmured, groaning softly when Arthur pushed his jeans and pants down off his hips.

"Your accent," Arthur said reverently, biting his shoulder, helping Merlin step out of his clothes.

He brushed his brow along the back of Merlin's neck, relishing the heat that bloomed there at his words.

"What would you have me say?" Merlin replied finally, his voice only a little raw as Arthur pressed him down, a hand between his shoulders until he was chest down on the quilts.

"Since it's Christmas," Arthur said, lowering himself to his knees behind Merlin, drawing his warm hands down the tops of Merlin's thighs as he went. "You could give me a proper Irish endearment, just this once."

Merlin laughed breathlessly, turning his face to look at Arthur.

"I'm not calling you a bonnie anything, Arthur," he said.

Arthur grinned and spread Merlin open, pressing his tongue against him for the first time in what seemed like a thousand small eternities.

Merlin stifled a shout into the bed, his hands gripping the quilt. Whimpered quietly, desperately trying to keep his voice down as Arthur slid his tongue inside and drew it back out again, gripping Merlin's balls tight in his overheated palm. For a moment he lost himself, listening to Merlin whine, muscles jumping under his hands.

"Arthur!" Merlin whispered hoarsely, and Arthur pulled back slowly, steadying Merlin's hips.

"Nothing then?" Arthur said, kissing Merlin's tailbone as he stood, running his hands over the heaving ribs. "Not one?"

Merlin moaned under his breath when Arthur pressed the head of his cock inside.

"Oh God," he hissed, pressing his hips back, the two of them moving slowly until they were fully seated together.

Arthur kissed Merlin between his sharp shoulders. Dug his hand into Merlin's curls and pulled.

Merlin let his head be tipped back his throat exposed, and pressed his palm to the wall as if that would stop the bed rocking against it when Arthur began to move.

It was a slow, delicious movement, that stoked all of the heat inside Merlin in a long, agonizing wave. The two of them had been so hot for it, that Merlin had been sure that anything would put them right over the edge, as much as they wanted to make it last. It shouldn't have surprised him at all that Arthur knew him all to well now, and knew how much was just...not enough.

Merlin gave a pitiful sob into the quilt, lowering his head between his shoulders. Said, without thinking,

"Arthur darling, _move_."

 _Darlin'_ in that full throated Irish lilt, an endearment he hadn't given anyone since he'd been at college as a boy.

Merlin just barely got his mouth around one of the pillows in time. Arthur pounded into him, helping Merlin lift one of his shaking thighs up onto the bed. They were both overwhelmed by it, the sudden rushing silence in the room and tide erupting between them and Merlin came almost immediately, his whole body trembling around Arthur, the quilts, the pillow in his mouth.

Arthur bit him hard on the shoulder, holding him up, stifling his own ecstatic cry with his teeth sunk into Merlin's skin.

They both collapsed slowly, panting, and Merlin had a sleepy moment to think, that if only they'd done it on the bed instead of over the edge, they wouldn't have to move.

Slowly Arthur pulled out of him, and he hissed a little, not having realized just how hard they had gone in the last few moments. His legs felt like jelly.

He worked his jaw free of the pillow, turned over and let Arthur lift him slowly onto the bed, pulling a fleece throw over his body. Then, brushing back Merlin's hair, Arthur kissed the side of his face.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, and then began to redress.

Merlin heard the door roll back and then he was drifting, a pleased smile on his face. When Arthur returned he was carrying a pitcher and a wash cloth, and sitting on the edge of the bed began to wipe Merlin's cold body down with the warm towel.

Merlin hummed, his his eyes drifting closed again.

Arthur was kissing the back of his shoulder, the two of them finally both under the covers in a somewhat decent state and Merlin was nearly asleep when he heard Arthur speak against his hair.

"Merlin?"

Blinking himself awake, Merlin turned over, wrapping his arms around Arthur's ribs, finding shelter in the space between his shoulder and his chin.

When Arthur didn't continue, Merlin smiled against Arthur's warm skin. Said,

"I'm not asleep just yet, darling. What is it?"

Arthur laughed against Merlin's hair, ridiculously pleased and so completely and utterly satisfied.

"I love you," he said.

Merlin tightened his hold on Arthur for a few seconds. Leaned back to put a hand on Arthur's cheek so that he could look at him properly. Arthur was smiling. There wasn't a trace of uncertainty there. Merlin kissed him.

"I love you too," he said, brushing Arthur's mouth again, gently, with his own.

* * *

The next morning Merlin was feeling so high he nearly ran headlong into Percival as he made his way to the kitchen for some toast. He laughed as Percival bumped his shoulder to straighten him out.

Arthur was in the shower, and they were all packed and ready to head out to get Morganna. They only had one more day left in Ireland, and the morning next. Then Merlin and Gwen would be leaving in the afternoon with Arthur close behind. This time, Percival would bring him back himself.

Sitting down with his tea beside his mum, Merlin felt suddenly that he didn't want to go. He leaned against Hunith when she took a seat next to him, and she wrapped her arm around his head, her palm against his temple and drew him closer, so that she could press a kiss to his hair.

"Good morning love," she said. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said, taking a bite of toast. "Are you sure you and the others don't want to come to the Cliffs with us?"

"Ah, no," she said, stirring milk into her tea. "You take Arthur out and show him the country. I won't be sorry for a day of laying on the couch in the quiet."

Merlin smiled at her, but there was something sad behind it that made her look at him a moment, sipping her tea.

"Are you sure everything is alright?" She asked him.

Merlin blinked.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Mum...I'm sorry, for not coming home before now. I meant to. But I..."

He trailed off. He'd been in Ireland twice now in the last four years without seeing her. Both times to go to court. He thought about that now, staring at the table. She put a hand on his cheek, drawing him back.

"Merlin, love. Do you know how proud I am of you?"

He swallowed hard. Searched her face. Shook his head.

"It's okay, to need time. And look at all the wonderful things you've brought back into this home, after taking the time that you needed. Gwen, and Tom and your music. And new faces for me to learn and love. I'm so happy for you."

He pressed his hand into his eyes, but they were alone in the kitchen. She gave him another kiss. A gentle laugh into his hair.

"Oh my darling," she said. "You don't owe me anything for those years."

He did cry then, silently. But it wasn't a grieving heavy thing. It was a gentle release that he laughed over at the end. Hunith wiped his face for him, and then stood, putting her hands on his shoulders from behind his chair.

"Come on now, I was going to wait for tomorrow morning. But you'll have it now."

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Have what?"

"Come on," she said, and left him sitting there as she wandered out of the kitchen.

He got up and followed, peering into the parlor suspiciously to find her standing by the tree. He came up to her, vaguely aware of Arthur pausing in the gallery door, as if he'd been about to head towards the kitchen and uncertain about interrupting them.

Hunith handed Merlin a package.

"What's this?" He said, smiling, taking it from her.

"It's tradition now," she said matter-of-factly.

He had no idea what she meant by that, and took the package to the sofa, resting it in his lap. It was fairly large, wrapped in gold paper and green ribbon. He was almost sorry to undo it. His mother had a flair for wrapping Christmas presents.

She sat on the edge and watched. From across the room, Arthur leaned his shoulder on the gallery door and the movement made Hunith look. She waved him in with a smile.

Merlin unwrapped the paper. Inside the box was a beautiful new coat, like the one she'd gifted him, when he'd been accepted to Warwick. He pulled it part of the way out of the box, his lips parting.

The first coat she had given him, the one he'd taken to wearing more often now, instead of his fleeces and flannels, was a long wool coat. Navy, with black buttons. This one was fitted, a double-breasted peacoat in a heavy boiled wool with a steel blue lining. It was a rich, warm, russet brown.

"Mum," he breathed.

She smiled radiantly at him. Arthur took the coat gently from Merlin's fingers, shook it out. It was just a little over hip length, Merlin thought as he stood, letting Arthur help him into it.

He was wearing a blue thermal Henley and a white long sleeved undershirt beneath it, and Leon's red scarf with a pair of dark blue jeans. As soon as he saw the brown wool settle over his clothes, he knew it was perfect. He let Arthur straighten the shoulders for him, before turning around. Merlin held out his arms. Raised his eyebrows. The wool felt warm and solid on him. He loved it instantly.

Arthur whistled. Hunith let out a bright laugh.

"It suits you," she said, tugging on the hem. "You'll be needing a good brown coat for your English spring term. Gaius will find you very sharp."

Merlin snorted.

"Thank you," he said, leaning down to kiss her. She accepted his peck on the cheek with a smile.

"You're welcome, sweet. Come and finish your breakfast. You don't want to keep Morganna waiting."

Merlin grinned, watching Hunith head back to the kitchen. Arthur tugged him forward by his coat, making him laugh. Kissed the pulse below Merlin's jaw.

"I wish it were heavy enough to wear out to the Cliffs," Merlin lamented, shrugging out of the beautiful coat and setting it over the back of the sofa. "I can tell I'm going to want to live in it as soon as the weather warms a little."

Arthur laughed, walking with him into the kitchen.

There was something about the brown coat that looked _right_ on Merlin.

"Everyone got me something wool this year for Christmas," Merlin said happily. "I'm going to need a dry cleaner."

"Well if you would stop being so cold all the time, all of us wouldn't feel the need to bundle you up."

Merlin laughed as Arthur hugged him from behind to emphasize his point, and the two of them lumbered into the kitchen still connected, a laughing four-legged beast.

* * *

The drive to the Cliffs was an ambitious one for a day trip. From Merlin's little town above Belfast, it was a four hour road trip down to the opposite coast. It was early, eight in the morning when they'd picked up Morganna, and despite feeling awake and rested, when the chatter had died down in the car, Merlin fell asleep.

Morganna watched him, resting against the window in the seat beside her. Then leaned forward between Percival and Arthur up front.

"How was the rest of your Christmas?" She said quietly, resting her chin on her hand.

Arthur glanced at her over his shoulder, caught sight of Merlin and smiled.

"Good," he said, and meant it.

"Is your someone going to make it to the Cliffs?" She laughed. "He's already completely tuckered out."

"He has a name, Morganna," Arthur chided. But he was grinning, and so was Percival.

"So he does," she said amiably. Arthur rolled his eyes.

* * *

Back in Belfast, Lancelot was on the phone with Leon.

"Did you track him down?" Lance asked, typing into his desktop.

"Yeah," Leon said. "Happy bloody Christmas. I knew the guy was a creep when I threw him out of Excalibur, but I didn't expect him to be a crazy too."

"Crazy?" Lance echoed. The man Leon had recently had a...conversation with was called Alinor. He'd been the one to leak to the press that Merlin was going to be meeting with Gaius in the Cafe some months ago now.

"Yeah, he kept going on about family and loyalty and what a sodding prick Arthur was. It was fucking nuts. I didn't even have to ask him anything really. He wouldn't shut up once he got started."

Lancelot pointedly did not ask Leon how he'd gotten Alinor started in the first place.

"Anything useful?"

"I don't think so," Leon sighed. "How about you and Percy?"

"We found Cedric's place. Ran it down. I'm still going through all of the papers Percy scanned, and the photos he took. Nothing solid yet."

"Maybe it won't matter," Leon said softly. "There hasn't been any new texts or photos have there?"

"Not that I know of," Lance agreed.

"Well it will stay that way if Cedric knows what's good for him. Check in if you find anything."

"Ta," Lance said absently, hanging up the phone.

He tapped his finger on his mouse idly. Staring at the computer screen without really seeing it. He didn't buy the idea that Cedric was done harassing Merlin because he'd gotten scared off after Arthur's press conference. It was bothering Lancelot more than he cared to admit, that the photos hadn't come out as soon as Arthur announced Merlin was working for him at CamelotGIS. It would have been the perfect time to do it, for a number of reasons. Cause a scandal, an opportunity for lucrative blackmail. Either way the person holding those photos could command a significant amount of money for them.

They had all assumed it was about money, and in their defense, it usually was.

But something about this felt personal to Lancelot.

Why hold on to those photos?

Why only send them to Merlin?

Lancelot scrubbed the back of his head in frustration. All that would accomplish was ensure that Arthur and the Pendragon Estate would be investigating. And if anything, Lancelot was beginning to understand that was far more dangerous than having the local police after you for criminal mischief.

He glanced at the transcripts of the texts, printed out on his desk.

They were certainly alarming, upsetting even, but they weren't overtly threatening. There were no demands. No issuance of intimidation.

Just pictures, and eerie questions.

If this was about money, if it was about blackmail, if it was about _Arthur_ , like they had all assumed, then why?

Lancelot turned back to his computer. Started back up on combing the scans Percy had made of the documents he'd found in Cedric's apartment.

He hoped Leon was right, more than anything. But he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that they hadn't seen something obvious.

He pushed it aside for now. There was still work to do.

* * *

Arthur was walking the long road to the top of the Cliffs, with Morganna on his arm. He was running a hand reverently over Hadrian's Wall, feeling the stone, wondering how many hands had passed over them, since it's installment here. Who those people might have been.

Percival and Merlin were walking behind them, not far, the four of them a tight knit group as they crested the rise. Even in the winter, their boots crunching along the well worn track, there were so many people. Arthur could see why. They hadn't even made it to the views, which Morganna and Merlin had both tried to describe to him. How beautiful it was. But he hadn't been prepared, not really.

The Cliffs were massive, so much bigger than he'd given them credit for and even covered in snow, there were still traces of green and black breaking through all the white and the grey. He could hear the sea already, a low rushing hum, and sounds of the seals and the gulls and voices carrying over the chill air. When they made it at last to the top, to the place where the water was visible, Arthur caught his breath.

They were standing on the edge of the world, Arthur thought. Below them the black and green Cliffs cut a sheer, two hundred meter drop into the sea. The water was the color of fish scales, a sheen of silver green where it was beginning to frost over, churning into deep navy that crashed and rolled up the rock faces, thundering under their feet.

Merlin was grinning at his side, his hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

"They say there's a golden city under the water there. Cill Stuifin, that sank when the key that opened the castle doors was lost." Merlin told him. "Legend has it, you can still see the golden city below the surface of the water on a clear day."

Arthur smiled at him. Percival snorted.

Morganna hummed.

"It's not a totally incongruous legend you know. These Cliffs are over three million years old, and we're only just starting to recognize their significance. There's a good chance there _is_ some record of civilization below the waters."

"Don't encourage him," Arthur said, letting Morganna turn him so that they could walk along the edge of the Cliffs and watch the sea. "Ever since we got here he's been telling us nothing but fairy stories. He's going to give Percival bad dreams."

"Oy!" Merlin and Percival said at the same time.

Morganna tipped her head back and laughed. In the high cliff-top winds, her hair was streaming behind her, like a pennant flag.

"I'm not saying you'll find a key to a golden city down there," she said, still laughing.

They continued on like that for a long way across the Cliffs. Merlin was breathing in the sea air, thinking of nothing but the grey snow clouds on the horizon and the sun breaking through them. He tried to remember the last time he'd been to the Cliffs of Moher. He knew he had been there as a child, but the memories were loose in his fingers.

"I've been wondering," Arthur said, coming up beside him. Merlin looked up, watched Morganna and Percival pull ahead of them for a moment before turning his attention back to Arthur.

His golden skin was pink with the cold at the tops of his ears and his cheeks and his hair had caught the stray sunlight glimpsing through the dark sky, windswept guinea wheat against the snow covered field. Merlin wanted to kiss him breathless, to remember the sea reflected in those blue eyes.

"You were wondering?" He prompted, settling for taking Arthur's hand, their gloved fingers lacing easily.

"What this place must look like in the summer. Belfast too."

Merlin smiled.

"I could describe it for you," he said agreeably.

Arthur smiled back.

"I was thinking we could take a summer holiday, once you're all studied out."

Merlin could see it. After he'd finished a years worth of his doctorate study, living out of the red brick house on Poundgate with Arthur, coming back home to Ireland for the summer. The poppies and the gorse flowers would be in bloom then, and the Belfast flower boxes would be overflowing, marking a procession down her cobbled side streets. In the summer heat it would be a welcome trip to return with Arthur to the Giant's Causeway, to take him down onto the basalt columns and walk along the sea spray under an empty Irish summer sky.

It had been so hard for so long. When had they managed to find their balance without him noticing? To discuss houses and summer holidays as if they would never again be parted by anything. For a brief, dizzying moment, it overwhelmed him.

Merlin waited for the panic to set in. That edgy crawling feeling that crept over his chest whenever he thought about the future for too long, whispering to him that he was never going to be good enough for it to last.

But it never came. He didn't hear the voice anymore. All he could hear was Arthur.

"What do you think, love?" Arthur asked him now.

Merlin's smile was radiant. He squeezed Arthur's hand.

"I think we'll have to budget our time wisely," he said. "If I don't take you to Dublin next time around, I might just be the worst Irish boyfriend of all time."

Arthur barked out a laugh.

"Oh really?" He said, as they continued on.

"Oh yeah," Merlin said, leaning into his accent just to see the look Arthur would give him for it. Arthur's eyes smoldered behind his easy smile. "So Arthur, you went to Ireland, did you? What did you think of Dublin? What do you mean you didn't go?"

Arthur bumped his shoulder with a laugh.

"Oh well," Merlin continued, grinning. "You know how it is with these Northern Irish lads. Good for nothing."

Arthur was still laughing.

"Is that right?" He said.

Merlin was flush with laughter now too.

"You tell me."

Arthur pressed his mouth to Merlin's ear as they walked, and Merlin could feel Arthur's smile over his hot skin.

"I can think of a few things you're good for, love."

Merlin did kiss him then, walking shoulder to shoulder with Arthur on the edge of a cliff, caressed by the sea.

And he didn't give a good goddamn who saw them.

* * *

Leon was back on the phone.

"Agravaine is involved somehow, I know he is. I bet you anything he tipped to Alinor."

Lancelot had the phone between his shoulder and his ear, flipping through photos now. His vision was blurring. He needed to take a break. He couldn't keep staring at his computer screen like this. He rubbed his eyes.

"Agravaine was the watchman at Excalibur assigned to Merlin?"

"Yeah," came Leon's tinny response over the line. "Gwaine told me that the second time he brought Arthur to Merlin's place in Brixton, Merlin told them Agravaine wished someone would hurt him."

Lancelot sat up at that. Took the phone off his shoulder and held it more firmly to his ear.

"Did he say why?"

"No," Leon said. "Not that I know."

But Lancelot knew. He'd done that job. Done it for _Merlin_.

"He'd only say something like that if Agravaine wasn't responsive. If he'd been in trouble before and Agravaine was slow to help him. Did Merlin ever say that Agravaine didn't come quickly during an incident? Or didn't come at all?"

Leon blew out a breath. "No, no. I don't think so. At least not to me. He's still on holiday though so I don't want to ask him just now - "

"No, right of course," Lance was saying. "I still know the booking manager at Avalon. I'll ask her instead. They won't have physical records unless a police report was filed, but if something happened someone will remember it."

"Okay," Leon agreed. "Let me know what you find out. I could use an excuse to punch the smug smile off that guy's face."

"Ta," Lancelot agreed, and then hung up.

Dialed a number he'd never thought he would use again.

"Hello Vilia?" He said. "It's Lancelot. How are you?"

"Oh fine," she said. "Surprised to hear from you. What fresh hell is it this time?"

He winced.

Vilia had the same job as Gwen did, for the Avalon house. In truth he could have called Gwen to ask about Agravaine. She would know more, most likely, than Vilia would. But that wound was still raw, and he wasn't sure he would be able to stand the sound of her voice, knowing she was right here, in Armagh, closer than either of them had been to each other in four years.

He resolved to ask Gwen as well, later, when she and Merlin were back on their way to England.

"I just have a quick question about one of the watchmen from your sister house, Excalibur. He goes by Agravaine."

She made a disgusted noise.

"You know him?"

"Oh sure," she said. "He's a brute. Was here at Avalon to start you know."

Lancelot leaned forward, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

"What? When?"

"Oh, I don't know, he must have left a little before you did I should think."

Lancelot tried to picture him. He must have known him if they worked the same beat. But he couldn't see him in his memories. In truth, he'd been young and not much interested in anything outside of his world with Gwen and Merlin. It ached in his chest that he couldn't remember.

"After he went to Excalibur," Lancelot asked her. "Was there any incidents associated to his name? Did he have any problems?"

She hummed, he heard moving around. There were voices nearby.

"It's ringing a bell. I think my mate Lorna was spreading some kind of gossip like that around. Lorna!" She shouted, making Lance jump.

The two women conferred, muffled voices on the line. Lancelot bounced his leg.

"Sure, yeah. It was just a little thing I suppose."

"What happened?"

"I guess the escort had a kink profile. One of the customers roughed him up - he ended up in the hospital. Nothing life-threatening.There was no police report, but I guess he complained when he came back to work. Said he'd signaled for Agravaine but he took his bloody time opening the door. Agravaine claimed he didn't hear the signal over all the ruckus in the room."

Lancelot clenched a hand into a fist. He knew what would have happened next.

"Let me guess, they all agreed on new signals and moved on?"

"Oh you know how it is. Why are you asking, anyway?"

"His name came up in a case I'm working. Just trying to get the full picture."

"Well, Mr. Copper," she said sweetly. "Let me or Lorna know if you need anything else. I have to get back to work."

"Take care of yourself," Lancelot said, and meant it.

"You too," she said, and clicked off.

Lancelot ran a hand over his face. Dialed Leon back.

"I feel like we should just have an open line at this point," Leon said dryly. "What did you find?"

"Agravaine was at Avalon when Merlin and I were working there. He left just before we did, although I'm not clear if that was before the scandal with Sigan broke or after."

Leon hissed out a curse.

"It gets better," he said grimly. "Apparently Merlin's been in the hospital before because of Agravaine being to slow to respond to rough customers."

"I'll kill him," Leon said savagely.

"Get in line, mate."

The two of them were silent for a moment. Then Lancelot pressed the heel of his palm into his eye and leaned his elbow on the desk.

"I feel like we're going in circles," he muttered, despite himself.

"Okay, so let's assume Agravaine is involved with these texts somehow. He's part of the scheme," Leon said. "What's the fucking point?"

Lancelot looked up at his computer screen. Started scanning over the photos Percival had taken in Cedric's apartment.

"I don't know, I - "

He stopped.

Leon shifted on the other end of the line. "Lance?" He prompted.

But Lancelot was scrambling around on his desk, searching for the file Gwaine had Percival deliver to him.

"Hang on," Lancelot said a little hysterically, dumping the file out unceremoniously onto his keyboard. A picture flipped out and landed on the floor. He held it up to the computer screen.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, already standing, snatching at his keys.

"Leon, I'm sending you a shitty picture and then I'm getting on the road. Call Percival, call him right now and warn him."

"Warn him what?" Leon snapped angrily. Lancelot held the picture up again to his computer screen. Took his phone from his ear and snapped a screen grab. Then sent it to Leon.

The Polaroid in the file Gwaine had sent him was of Agravaine, paper clipped neatly to a brief write up on him. And on his computer was a photo that Percival had scanned from Cedric's apartment. A big family photo, it looked like. From a wedding, maybe. There were so many faces at a distance, it was easy to miss them. But Agravaine and Cedric were standing in the group photo, smiling. Agravaine had a firm hand on Cedric's shoulder. They looked completely happy, so at first, Lancelot hadn't recognized them at all.

"Call Percival and tell him Agravaine and Cedric are related. Tell him they're _both_ from Ireland. I'm on my way to Armagh now."

He fumbled to lock the office door.

"Shit, shit, shit," Leon hissed. "They aren't in Armagh today. They're at the Cliffs of Moher with Morganna."

Lancelot looked at the ceiling.

"That's four hours South."

"Fuck it, go to Armagh anyway and wait for them there. I need to call Percival." And then Leon was gone.

Lance ran for the parking lot and made a split second decision he would have regretted any other day and changed course for the shed where he kept his bike. It was too cold to ride it, but it wouldn't kill him. And the bike was faster than his rover.

He threw on his leather bike coat.

And then he called Gwen.

* * *

Morganna was watching Percival, who had stepped away and was speaking quietly into his phone. They'd just made it down into Doolin for lunch, before they would make their way to the hotel.

The plan was for Arthur, Merlin and Percival to make the long drive back to Armagh no later than four. And Morganna would remain in Luogh North overnight, and head back home in the morning. She'd offered to have them come into the hotel to rest for a bit before driving so far again. But they'd agreed to sit down to lunch first.

They'd taken a recommendation from the cashier at the gift shop, to try the Stonecutter's Kitchen in Doolin. As soon as she'd mentioned it was inside a traditional one-hundred year old Irish stone cottage, Morganna's face had lit up. Now they were parked in front of the building, all she could seem to focus on was the set of Percival's shoulders. The sudden tension in his neck.

She turned to Arthur, frowning.

"Is everything alright?" She asked.

Arthur looked up from his phone and glanced at Percy. Immediately he straightened. Reacting to the tension in the air.

"I don't know."

And then all at once he was aware that he and Morganna were alone.

"Where's Merlin?" He asked. His tone was calm, but there was something brooding in his eyes.

"He's just gone up the hill to get a better look at the house."

Arthur glanced over at the restaurant. Merlin was coming back down toward the car, his chin lowered into his scarf.

"Will you do me a favor," Arthur said, kissing her on the cheek and starting off toward Percival. "Keep him out of earshot for a minute."

She watched Arthur for a long moment in silence. She'd made it clear to him on more than one occasion, she wasn't one of his soldiers. But the look on Arthur's face brought her up short of opening that old wound. Whatever was going on, it was important.

She turned and headed up the road to intercept Merlin with a smile.

"How is it?" She said.

"Oh you know," Merlin shrugged. "It's made of stone."

"Walk me up there?" She said, taking his arm. "Arthur is taking too long and it's freezing."

Merlin had to admit his cheeks were very cold. He accepted her gloved hand into the crook of his elbow and headed back the way he'd come.

"Your friend Gwen is very nice," Morganna said suddenly. And Merlin had the sneaking suspicion that she was grasping at something to talk to him about, now that Arthur wasn't with them. He smiled.

"She is," he agreed.

"Where's she from? She doesn't sound like an Irish girl," Morganna said.

"No," Merlin said. "No, she's from Newcastle. We met when Tom came to Armagh to work on a long term restoration project."

Morganna nodded thoughtfully. There was an SUV on the road ahead of them, bumping along, so they stepped out of the road and into the snow.

"Merlin - "

Whatever she had been about to say, it died on her lips. Suddenly, Merlin had taken her by the shoulders and threw her, bodily to the ground.

Morganna wasn't one of Arthur's soldiers but she had grown up in Uther's house and she wasn't a pushover. But she hadn't been expecting a fight.

She tumbled into the wet grass and the snow, her elbow striking a stone, her hair obscuring her face for some crucial seconds. Car doors slammed. She could hear footsteps on the track. Merlin was making a strangled sound she didn't understand. She hadn't shouted when she'd fallen. She'd been too startled to make any noise.

She threw back her hood and turned over.

Merlin was gone.

The SUV was speeding down the long road back toward the parking lot and the main streets. Arthur hadn't seen. The broadside of the SUV had obscured them until it had pulled away. She came up on her hands and knees, screaming into the wind, as loud as she could, so Arthur would hear, even though she knew it was too late.

"MERLIN!"


	36. Severed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gathers his forces. Merlin is gone.

* * *

That night, back safely in Hunith's cottage, Arthur thought about his horses.

The ones he'd told Merlin about, Buddy and Black Jack, were long gone. His father cycled horses out as investments not animals he'd genuinely cared for. There were four of them left, since Uther had died. But Arthur was thinking of two of them in particular. The two he would use to teach Merlin how to ride.

Llamrei, the black mare, whose coat was the same deep walnut black as her mane. She was a gentle creature, but she had storm in her stride. And Hengroen, the brown stallion with a mane the color of volcanic ash. They paired well, neither of them overtly dominate of the other.

He thought they were going to need a much longer holiday after today.

Arthur replayed the moment Morganna had started screaming in his head again. He believed that when he'd turned to see the SUV, when it had slowed to open it's window a fraction, his fingers had caught the glass. That he'd hung on until Percival was at his side, forcing the door open so they could make a grab for Merlin.

He could see the moment so clearly. It was easy to see now how he could have done it.

How they'd all have tumbled out onto the road. How Morganna's screaming had already attracted the attention of the few tourists wandering about in the cold like they were. So when Merlin, he and Percival had hit the ground, whoever was inside the SUV decided better of a second attempt, and tore off instead, the door still flung wide.

Merlin was banged up but he was okay.

The image of it behind his eyes punched deeper and deeper until at last he could see through what he desperately wanted to believe, into the reality of it.

He'd turned at Morganna's screaming, wasted a crucial three seconds taking in her scrambling form, dragging herself up off the muddy packed road, her long hair trailing snow as she bolted down the track, still screaming. There was an SUV ahead of her and Arthur lurched to intercept it, blinded suddenly by the realization that Merlin wasn't with Morganna on the road, that she was screaming his name. That he was gone.

He ran for the car, on a perfect straight line to meet it broadside with his body, and he knew in an instant he'd pivoted on his bad leg without thinking, had started to run as if he'd never been injured, and he knew if he stopped moving now he would fall.

The window of the SUV cracked open as Arthur ran for it and he threw out his hand to catch the glass. It was a powerful car but Arthur was solid and if he threw all of his weight onto the glass it would come down in it's frame.

Inside he could see Merlin, struggling with three other men who had planted themselves on top of him, were trying to pin his arms and his legs. There was an arm around Merlin's throat pulling his head back, and he couldn't see that Arthur was there.

Just before his fingers tipped the glass edge of the window, Percival took him bodily from behind, one brutal arm around his chest and threw him back away from the SUV. Arthur's feet actually left the ground as Percival took him down, putting his body between Arthur's and the car, covering him. Holding him down.

Something hit the ground and the SUV peeled off, jerking down the road.

And then Arthur elbowed Percival in the face.

It wasn't a glancing blow. He hadn't done it to get Percival to back off. He'd meant for it to break something. Percival's head snapped back, blood blooming over his face from his nose, and he sprawled onto the road choking.

Morganna wasn't screaming any more. She hit him, full force, clamping her strong arms around both of his, crashing down at his side on her knees before he could stand up and round on Percival again.

"Keys!" She said.

Arthur gave her the keys to their rented car and she dragged him upright, shoved him in the direction of it. Grabbed Percival up off the ground by the collar of his coat and did the same to him.

They fell into the car. Morganna shifted right from first to third, and tore out of the parking lot, cutting briefly out into the snow covered field before slamming down on the clutch to punch the heavy vehicle from fourth and into fifth before they'd even hit the main road.

Percival had his head as far back as he could without sacrificing his eye on the road. Arthur had his gaze fixed on the diminishing black SUV in the distance.

He realized he still hadn't said anything.

"Make the call," he said hoarsely to Percival.

Percival grunted. Pulled out his phone and dialed Gwaine.

Here, his mind wanted to believe that Morganna had caught up to the SUV. Slowed by tourist traffic or one of those packed roundabouts Ireland seemed overly fond of. He knew she would have rammed the back of the vehicle for him if she'd had the chance. Leon had taught her how to take a car off the road if necessary. How to feel the action of the gears when she accelerated. How to listen when the car had gone past what it was capable of, to push it further still.

For two impossible heartbeats, Arthur thought she would get the chance. But they weren't closing the distance fast enough and the roads were tight. Even through the collective adrenaline rush inside their car, Arthur felt Morganna release the gas. They couldn't help Merlin if they came screaming around some tight corner wedged in by stone walls and barreled into an oncoming car. If they kept pushing the SUV and it made a head on collision with anything at that speed, Merlin would be killed along with everyone inside.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Arthur knew this. But he couldn't make himself understand.

Morganna followed for as long as she could. But they lost the SUV outside of Doolin, heading east.

They'd started back toward Armagh in wordless agreement.

After Percival had finished calling Gwaine, the police had been called.

Arthur called Hunith himself.

Percival was handing him a cup of tea. Arthur took it, and as if waking up from a very long sleep, hurled it in a rage as far from him as he could get it. The cup exploded into a thousand glittering pieces across Merlin's upright piano, tea and porcelain shimmering down the wooden front, the ivory keys.

"I don't want anymore tea," Arthur roared. "I WANT HIM BACK."

There was silence in the room.

Percival backed away a step, and then slowly,

"Arthur, when I - "

"I know why you did it!" Arthur erupted. Had he been shouting all day? He couldn't seem to lower his voice.

Percival had executed his part on that muddy road, just as he was meant to do. He knew that when the window had opened, Percival wouldn't have been sure there wasn't a gun on the other side of the glass. And sure or not there was only one proper response. To put himself between Arthur and the window. To get Arthur as far away from the threat as he could.

But Arthur was a soldier too, and he couldn't forgive Percival yet. He couldn't forgive himself for needing Percival to do what he'd done.

It hadn't been a gun. They'd thrown Merlin's cellphone out onto the road. His wallet.

Percival left him. His face was bruised. Arthur stared at the piano, and stiffly made his way over to the beautiful instrument and absently began to pick up the pieces of the tea cup, still warm in some places, ashamed of himself.

Movement caught his eye at the door to the parlor. He looked up. Hunith was standing there, holding the brown coat she'd given to Merlin in the morning. Had it only been that morning?

Arthur couldn't open his mouth. If he did, he wasn't sure he could keep himself from shouting again. He didn't want Hunith to see him like this, standing over her son's piano, a handful of broken glassware in his palm.

She held out her hand to him, opening and closing her fingers as if to say, _'come here'_ ; as if she couldn't speak yet either.

Arthur went to her slowly, still holding the pieces of the teacup in his fist. She reached up and took him around the shoulders and pulled him down with her hand on the back of his neck. He stared at the floor, not really seeing it, his chin against her strong shoulder.

"I know you need him," she whispered brokenly. She hadn't been overwhelmed by her grief, as Arthur had. But she had cried. Was crying now. "Now he needs you, too. You've got to wake up for him, love. He'll be waiting for you."

Arthur jerked at the words. Something inside of him broke open, unspooling like snapped steel cables in his chest. She was gripping the back of his neck hard, her small hand warm on his skin. His eyes widened. Fixed on the floor. Saw detail returning to his vision for the first time since Merlin had been taken from him, on that muddy road outside of the Stonecutter's Kitchen.

The broken glass tumbled from his fingers. He reached around her, and pulled her close.

* * *

He'd gotten the call from Gwaine on the Bluetooth in his helmet. Lancelot was the closest to Armagh and he was already on his way. He punched up on the accelerator. Made the fifty-minute drive from Belfast in thirty-eight.

Merlin was gone.

He had to slow himself up Hunith's driveway, the cobbles slick and icy. He'd barely swung himself off the bike when he heard the door bang open, and turning he saw Gwenevere starting to run.

He couldn't move. He watched as she came unsteadily down the snow covered front yard, picking up her pace, her eyes haunted but her cheeks dry.

He took a step forward as she closed the distance. Caught her, when she grabbed for him.

He crushed her close, holding on like her life depended on the strength of his arms, his shoulders, his love for her. Her grip was feirce.

"Thank God," she said, her voice breaking. "Thank God you came."

"Come on," he whispered. "Come back up to the house, love. I'm not going anywhere."

And he wasn't, he decided. Ever again.

He'd made the rounds while Hunith prepared tea with shaking hands. Called Percival. Nothing was out of sorts. If they'd picked up surveillance somewhere, it wasn't at the cottage.

Then he went back inside and waited with Gwen and Hunith and Tom.

The four hours it took for the others to come back, felt like four small eternities. When they made their way inside, Lancelot had the impression that they'd driven and hadn't stopped for anything. The three of them looked like Hell.

Morganna came in first, covered in dried mud, holding on to one elbow. Tom helped her out of her coat and she winced, absently. Arthur was also mud caked but not nearly as badly. It looked like maybe he'd dropped to his knees but Morganna looked like she'd rolled in it. Arthur wasn't looking at any of them. Percival brought up the rear and moved quickly. Both his eyes were black. There was dried blood on his face.

"Jesus," Lancelot said. "What happened?"

All three of them looked up at him in unison, and their blank expressions were eerie in the late evening light. The constable who had been sitting with Hunith in the kitchen came into the foyer then, and the questions started.

Gwen only let go of his hand once, to help Morganna roll up the sleeve of her shirt to check on her elbow. To help her pack some ice on it.

Percival told him privately what had happened after the constable started in on Arthur. Lancelot still hadn't formerly met him. Watching him take a slow, measured seat in the kitchen, his blonde hair disheveled but the rest of him immaculate, he felt his skin prickling at the back of his neck. Arthur looked very calm. He looked unhappy, but he wasn't lost in his emotions.

At least, that was how it looked.

Lance and Percival watched Arthur grimly. Listened as the police told Arthur they would take it from here.

But the constable wasn't talking to Arthur the CEO anymore. Even Lance could feel it, the change in the air, not just around Arthur, but around Percival too, who was reacting to something unseen in Arthur's posture, his carefully neutral expression.

This was Lieutenant Pendragon, and there was no way in Hell anyone was _'taking it from here'._

Arthur nodded politely to the constable. Thanked him for his time. Shook his hand, even. And when Arthur passed the two of them to go into the parlor, unconsciously, Lancelot and Percival both straightened up.

When he'd gone, Percival said,

"Get some sleep while you can."

And then he left too.

Lancelot ran a hand over his eyes. It was Gwen who pulled him down to the kitchen table, put a soothing hand on the back of his neck.

"He's right," she said quietly. "Have something to eat and then you can take my bed for a few hours."

Lancelot leaned his brow against her temple. They both closed their eyes.

"I'll be fine," he said. It might even be true.

He wasn't sure, anymore.

* * *

It was two in the morning the next time Hunith's front door opened.

She'd opened it herself, hearing the car before the rest of them, from where she'd perched silent, in front of her Christmas tree.

Leon, Elyan, and Gwaine stood on the front stoop. She took in their expressions, the sets of their shoulders, and let them inside. They didn't smile or share pleasantries. Arthur was standing at Hunith's shoulder and he gave the barest introductions.

She put a hand on Arthur's cheek when he was finished, and turned silently to go back into the parlor.

Arthur stared at them all, hands in his pockets. Then he said to Leon,

"She's in the kitchen," and nodded down the hall.

Leon dropped his bag and disappeared into the next room.

The others were shucking out of their coats and boots quickly. Lancelot and Percival appeared in the hall where Leon had gone. Arthur looked at them all, his blue eyes dark. But he said nothing. He turned and headed through the parlor, into the gallery, fists clenched inside the pockets of his trousers. He still hadn't changed. Gwaine looked at Percival.

"He give you that?" Gwaine said.

Percival pressed his lips together, but said nothing.

Elyan nodded to the bench against the wall.

"Let me have a look," he said.

Percival did.

Lancelot shook hands with Gwaine, the action strange and subdued in Hunith's front hall.

"How are they?" Gwaine said, with a soldiers stripped down efficiency. Lancelot tried to give him a response in kind, but he'd never been a soldier, wasn't even a cop. So he just told him.

"Morganna was with Merlin when it happened. She seems the clearest on everything that occurred from that point on. She has a nasty bruise on her elbow but she's otherwise fine. She says Merlin threw her out of reach of the SUV."

Gwaine blew out a breath.

"Arthur's stopped shouting and breaking glasses, but he hasn't spoken directly to anyone but Hunith since the police came to take his statement. I don't know how he is."

"Not good," Percival said, sounding stuffed up, from his perch on the edge of the bench. Elyan had a pair of nitrile gloves on, and was in the process of cleaning out his nose. Naturally, he hadn't let anyone else look at it.

"He turned on his bad side, went running full tilt at the SUV. He'd have grabbed it too. I had to take him down."

Gwaine looked out toward the parlor. His brows lowering in concern.

"How hard did you bring him down?" Gwaine said.

"Hard," was the only reply he got.

"Alright," Gwaine breathed, holding out his hand. Elyan paused long enough to slap what looked to Lance like a black pencil case into Gwaine's hand. "Give me ten minutes and then come in. Bring Leon with you."

Then he was gone too. Lance looked at Percival, feeling lost.

Percival slapped Elyan with the back of his hand and gestured at Lancelot, nodding.

"Arthur has an injury, from his last tour in Afghanistan," Elyan said after glancing at Lancelot and then back to his work. "If he's been shouting all day, then he's done something to it. Gwaine will give him something for the pain, so we can talk."

Lancelot absorbed this for a moment.

"I thought he was just angry," he said quietly.

"No," Percival said, when Elyan finally released him. Reached into his bag to hand Percival a foil packet. "Arthur doesn't shout when he's angry."

"What then?" Lancelot said a little helplessly, wondering how he could have spent hours with Arthur and not realized he was in any kind of physical pain.

"He fixates," Morganna said, leaning her shoulder on the doorframe. She had an ace bandage on her elbow. "In this case?" She continued, looking around the foyer, from Elyan, to Percival, to Lancelot, and finally to Leon, standing at her side.

"He's going to war," she said.

* * *

Merlin thought he would pass out maybe, when they'd pulled the blindfold down over his eyes.

But somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Arthur, and Leon and Gwaine. And he remembered not to struggle when they started tying his wrists and ankles. He'd thrashed until they'd managed to get the zip ties out. Flailed for the door handle twice until someone cracked something hard down on his wrist. The pain was blinding. He was sure it was broken. Clenching his fists as Gwaine and Arthur had taught him to do when they looped the zip ties around his wrists was excruciating. He felt the catch of the tie bite a tiny, angry bruise into his arm when they'd finished. But he'd managed to keep his arms and wrists tense. Relaxing them now experimentally, he felt that he'd done a good job. There was slack in the ties. Not too much. But enough to give him hope. His ankles too, but the bigger issue there were his shoes. He'd have to find a way to pull them off to get free of those ties.

After the struggle subsided there was silence in the moving car, and Merlin was surprisingly calm. He was trembling and his skin was hot. Absently he thought his lip might be bleeding. He sucked on the cut, running his tongue over the tang of blood there, and he counted.

Turns and stops and minutes passing on long straight roads. He thought they were headed East. He kept counting. Another 90 minutes and he would assume they were headed into Dublin County, if not Dublin proper. He tried to think of a reason to bring him to Dublin other than the obvious - that being the airport. He didn't want to think about getting on a plane now. If he did he would fall apart. He could count miles in the air, but it wouldn't do him any good. Here, on Irish soil, at least he could fathom a guess at where they were going. Where he might be held.

So if not the airport, then where?

Merlin couldn't think of a good reason. He didn't recognize any of the men in the car with him, but then again he hadn't really been looking. He should have been, he realized belatedly. Memorizing as many things about them as he could. But when the door swung open all he could think was that he'd needed to get Morganna out of arms reach. Arthur had only just gotten her back. He'd never forgive himself if she'd been dragged into the SUV with him.

At least, he'd managed that much. It gave him some comfort to know that.

Once inside the car he hadn't picked out many details around his thrashing. But he thought he might have broken a nose, or a finger. He was skinny and not good in a fight but he had strong legs. Leon had told him so.

 _Use them_ , he'd heard Leon whisper in his ear.

He had.

The stress and the adrenaline weren't wearing off and Merlin felt the dull pulse of a headache begin behind his right eye. The blindfold and the jouncing car were going to make him sick after not too long. He thought of saying something. Then he thought he wouldn't mind throwing up on either of the two men sitting with their shoulders jammed into his.

He didn't ask them any questions. He didn't need to, at least not yet. There were only so many possibilities and Merlin just didn't think he or Arthur had enough bad luck to have stumbled into a random kidnapping plot for ransom.

He knew what this was. But he didn't think about it too hard. If he did, he thought he might start screaming.

They were definitely heading into Dublin County.

Twice, Merlin heard sirens. But his captors had only made one stop in the car so far, and Merlin had picked out the tinny sound of license plates hitting the road. So he wasn't surprised when the police cars passed them without slowing.

Now that they were headed toward the opposite coast, there were no more sounds like that. Just empty road and the occasional passing car.

He started badly when the road changed, bumping into softer packed dirt from the hard pavement of the thruway. Flinched the first time the driver used his horn. It was such an explosive, startling sound in the silence, that it made Merlin breathe out as though he'd been punched.

He heard someone in the cab chuckle.

Merlin didn't make any noise after that. He was too busy subtracting distances in his head. He didn't know Ireland bend for bend, and Dublin County wasn't overly familiar to him. But he knew the general layout. And the state of the roads told him a lot about what kind of area they'd driven into. Not Dublin proper then. They hadn't made it all the way to the coast. And that made sense, since Merlin was also still counting the seconds that passed, and they hadn't been driving long enough to have made it to Dublin.

So where then?

He was surprised by how quickly they stopped after that.

When the doors opened, the cold air hitting his face, Merlin braced for what he knew was coming next. They hauled him out, and someone threw him over a shoulder, nearly slamming his head off the roof of the car in the process. Merlin took an involuntarily hold of the jacket under his hands, the breath being knocked out of him with every jarring step.

Wherever they were, no one was worried about being seen carrying a man bound hand and foot to the front door, and that more than all the rest, scared Merlin.

He held his breath.

Kept counting.

Fifty long strides from the SUV to the door.

Another thirty-six and one left turn from the door to the flight of stairs they carried him down.

There were seventeen steps and a landing.

They dumped him into a chair and Merlin let out a shout at the feeling of falling. Jerked when two hands came down on his shoulders, holding him there.

He didn't know where they thought he was planning to go.

Absurdly, it made him want to laugh.

He waited a long time, he thought. Maybe it wasn't long. He'd stopped counting. He was repeating his other numbers in his head, committing them to memory. Seconds driven. Number of left turns. Number of right turns. The exact second in his count the road had turned from paved, to dirt. And every other number that followed.

He was on his fifth run-through when the blindfold came off.

It was a tender, sliding caress of fingers up under the dark fabric, gently guiding it up and off his head. He jumped badly. The hands on his shoulders kept him down.

There wasn't much light in the room. A basement, Merlin thought dimly. So his eyes didn't need to adjust to see well enough.

Black eyes, staring into his own. Merlin still dreamt about those eyes.

"Hello lover," Sigan said with a smooth, contented smile. "It's so _good_ to finally see you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note, before I end this chapter. The names of the horse Arthur mentions here, are the only names I know of given to Arthur's horses in the original legends. 
> 
> I hope you're all doing well at the end of this weekend. Thank you so much for all of your comments and support. As always, stay safe and be kind, and I'll be back soon 💋


	37. Tracing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin tries to escape. Arthur has a location and is on the move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter depicts physical violence and sexually violent scenarios that some may find difficult to read. Please use discretion when continuing on. 
> 
> **If you can't read this chapter for personal reasons, I will put a brief recap in the end notes.**
> 
> As always, stay safe and be kind. And if you or someone you know has ever experienced abuse, domestic or otherwise, sexual violence, emotional and mental manipulation in any way, by a trusted person or partner in your life, it wasn't your fault.
> 
> It was never your fault.
> 
> For anyone affected by abuse and needing support, call 1-800-799-7233, or, if you are unable to speak safely, you can log onto thehotline.org or text LOVEIS to 1-866-331-9474. You are not alone.

* * *

Sigan didn't stay long. Just long enough to disorient. Merlin was still staring at the place he had been long after the door had closed behind him. Just a perfunctory meeting, Merlin supposed, the logical part of his brain trying to rationalize what was happening to him.

_"We'll have plenty of time to talk. I just wanted to see that you were comfortable."_

The shaking started again when Sigan said _comfortable_. Like he had done on that day. The pitch of his voice not quite sincere. Masking the promise of that empty indifference in his black eyes.

_"Are you comfortable, lover?"_

Merlin sucked in a breath through his nose. Curled up in his chair and pressed his forehead to his bound wrists. Then, opening his eyes, he put his wrists between his knees, and pulled.

It took more than one try, and his wrists and the outsides of his thumbs were scraped raw by the time he was done, but the zip tie dropped to the floor with one last, long pull.

He waited, breathing hard.

Nothing moved.

Quietly, forcing himself not to panic and scramble around, he took off his shoes and socks. Then freed his ankles too.

Then he put his shoes and socks back on. Slowly, again. As quiet as he could manage. Then he stood. His legs felt like jelly, but he ignored it. That was just fear, not injury. They worked. He would make them work.

He looked around.

Wherever he was had a proper Irish basement, of course it did. No windows to the ground floor. But there had to be a storm door somewhere. No windows meant a building old enough to have used it's basement floor as a cellar at some point. Which meant there had to be outside access. Merlin didn't know why he was so sure he was in a house and not some random abandoned structure in the middle of nowhere. It felt like a house when they were carrying him through it. Sounded like one too.

That also seemed like something Sigan would prefer.

The first door he came to was a closet. He almost ignored it and continued on. But something snagged on his hand, making him jerk, and leaning in close to it so he could make it out in the dark, he realized it was a wire. He ran his fingers along it and found a light switch.

It came on. He took a quick look. Then something caught his eye. His heart leapt into his throat and he turned to glance over his shoulder before slowly, carefully he moved the boxes out of the way. Removed some things from the clear plastic tubs and started taking the pieces apart to check them, his hands unsteady.

It was a landline phone. And there was a jack in the wall. He plugged it in, praying, holding his breath so he could listen for footsteps over the sound of his own breathing. He lifted the receiver.

A dial tone.

He clamped a hand down over his mouth to stifle the sound he'd almost made. Then he dialed a number.

He listened to it ring once to be sure it had connected. And then carefully, he left the receiver off the hook. Covered it in boxes and whatever else he could find. Then he turned off the light and backed away. Shut the door as quietly as he could.

He couldn't remember when he'd started crying.

He didn't want to leave the phone. He wanted to lock himself in the closet and curl up with it until he was safe again. But there was nothing to barricade the closet with and the door to it had no bolt. And Leon was there in his ear again, standing just off Merlin's shoulder, in the back of his mind where Merlin could see him.

 _If you're in trouble and we ever get separated, Merlin, you have to keep moving. You do what you_ _have to, but you find an exit. You don't stop until you do._

"Right, okay," he said under his breath, walking away from the closet.

If he were a storm door he'd be on the East facing wall of the cellar. No idea how to know which direction East was down here though. Footsteps on the floor above him made him jump. He listened for one frozen heartbeat but they weren't heading for the cellar door. Up a flight maybe.

He was moving into a very shadowed part of the basement now. There was a small overhead light above the stairs leading down. But otherwise the lower floor was pitch black to his eyes. He ran a hand along the wall, and jumped when he knocked his palm against something that clattered. The sound shot down his spine. Immediately he looked up. Waiting. Holding his breath again. His skin felt hot.

No one was charging down the basement stairs. So Merlin reached out again slowly.

A door handle.

It was old and it rattled when it turned, but it _did_ turn. He eased it open. It creaked.

Merlin swallowed. The air felt cooler in here. He stepped inside. Felt along the walls. Tried not to let his skin crawl up the back of his neck as he smeared dirt and grime and spiderwebs under his palms as he went. Something skittered over the back of his hand.

And then his boot hit a stone step.

He reached out blindly. There was nothing in front of him. Empty space. A staircase, going up.

He crept up the stairs with one hand extended over his head. If the cellar door was intact, it would be at an angle to the ground floor.

His palm caught on a rough wooden surface.

He tensed, bracing himself, about to throw his body blindly at the door.

 _Wait Merlin,_ Leon was whispering. _Listen._

He did. Closed his eyes and listened. Not to the house, but to the door under his hand. Footsteps in the snow outside. Someone passed by the door and continued on. Merlin started counting.

Forty-six seconds. Give or take. He waited for the footsteps to pass, gave it another fifteen seconds.

Then he shoved the doors as hard as he could.

They jumped in their frames and crashed back down, but Merlin could hear the sound of a rattling chain against the wood. Locked.

Above him, footsteps were moving. Urgently now.

Merlin pelted back down the stairs, stumbling in the dark and tried to close himself into the stairwell. These doors had bolts both ways. But he couldn't see, and his hands were fumbling with the heavy iron catches, when suddenly the door slammed open and caught him across the face.

He let out a shout and sprawled back against the stairs but whoever was on the other side of the door was trying to force it open now and there wasn't much space between Merlin and the door. He reached up to cover his head with his arms, try and scramble out of the way, but the door cracked against his elbow, his shoulder, his knee. Relentless, hammering, like someone was kicking it and he was yelling now, flinching with every blow from the heavy old door.

"Stop! Wait!" Merlin cried, trying to pull himself up the stairs and out of the way. "Please, I'll come out! Just stop!"

Silence.

Merlin leaned back against the stairs and pulled in a silent sob. And then he stood, slowly, feeling bruised. Tried to wipe his face as best he could. When he eased the door back he flinched at the torchlight that flashed in his eyes and let out an involuntary yell when someone grabbed his broken wrist and took hold of the collar of his coat at the same time. Yanked him back out into the cellar where Sigan was waiting, examining his zip ties. He looked as though he'd just picked up a lucky penny off the pavement, or a flower he'd never seen before, one hand casually dipped into the pocket of his trousers.

Now that he was back in the one dimly lit space in the cellar, he could see who had a hold of him. Merlin didn't bother saying his name. He didn't care anymore. He just didn't care.

Agravaine all but threw him at Sigan's feet. He came down hard on his hands and collapsed, the pain in his wrist jackknifing into his elbow. He refused to scream. He just lay there with his forehead pressed against the concrete floor and kept his eyes tight closed.

"You know," Sigan said, thoughtfully. "I'm actually impressed."

Merlin swallowed, but didn't respond. Somewhere nearby, Agravaine shifted his weight, daring Merlin to move. He didn't.

"You were always full of surprises though. Always so fond of doing everything the _hard_ way."

Merlin didn't have time to react.

It was probably better that way.

* * *

Arthur was leaning over one of the tables in the gallery. He'd finally changed out of his mud-stained trousers and washed his face. Had a piece of toast. Through the dull ache of his pain-killers his knee throbbed but he couldn't sit down, not yet. He looked at the time. 

Gwaine was watching him.

"It's four in the morning," he said to Arthur after a moment. "You need to sleep."

After he'd debriefed them all, properly met Lancelot for the first time and unsuccessfully tried to get Morganna to go home where she would be safe, he had no idea where to go from here. It was still dark outside. He'd forgotten to unplug the Christmas lights for Hunith.

He straightened. Started to turn toward the parlor, Gwaine reaching out like he might stop him, when suddenly, his phone rang, making the two of them jump.

Arthur pulled it out of his pocket cautiously. Met Gwaine's eyes and picked up.

"Hello?" He said, as steadily as he could manage. "This is Arthur."

Nothing.

He glanced at the phone screen. He didn't recognize the number. Tried again.

"Hello?"

Gwaine was frowning, signaling to Leon outside the door to wake the others.

Arthur shook his head, still nothing.

He switched it to speaker and set it on the table.

"Hello?" He said again.

He could hear now, the sounds of scraping. Like boxes, maybe. Something dragging over concrete. Arthur held his breath. The creak of a door closing.

Faint, faint footsteps.

"Elyan!" He snapped, gesturing to the phone, but Elyan was already pulling his laptop free.

Arthur stepped away from the phone and then made an abortive turn back towards it. Gwaine stopped him, his big hand firm on Arthur's shoulder. The others were looking at him, alert now. Morganna too, standing just over Leon's shoulder.

"Dead air on the line," Arthur said quietly.

Elyan hooked the phone up to his machine and said, "Muted."

Arthur let out a breath.

"Unknown number. No response when I picked up."

None of them asked him if he thought it was Merlin.

"Not a ransom call then," Lancelot said.

"Elyan will trace the call," Gwaine said. "Get your gear ready. If it's anywhere in Ireland, we're moving out."

They all moved in opposite directions. Percival hefted both Elyan's and his gear to bring out to the land rover. By the time they had everything sorted, and stood in warm, black clothes and boots, they'd packed back into the gallery. Elyan was writing on a map.

"I have coordinates. No address."

"Better off with coordinates," Lancelot said. "Addresses here are more like suggestions unless you know exactly where you're going."

"Where?" Leon said.

"Mullingar," came Elyan's definitive reply.

Morganna blew out a breath. "Lancelot and I will drive. We know the roads."

Arthur didn't have the strength to refuse. And she was right.

"I'm sending your phones a copy of the coordinates," Elyan said, and handed the map over his shoulder as well. Gwaine took it, folding it up.

Arthur was shrugging into a heavy jumper. None of them would be wearing bulky coats from here on out.

As he pulled it down over his head, the static on the phone picked up.

They all froze, listening.

The echo of thundering footsteps. Other, slower treads following.

The line crackled.

Voices now. Far too muffled to make out any words. For one long horrifying second they were all focused entirely on Arthur's phone.

Then the screaming started.

Arthur didn't move. Morganna flinched. Gwaine had to grab Leon to keep him from making a dive for the receiver. Lancelot had gone pale, listening. Elyan was staring at the phone, his fingers poised over the keys, as if stuck between thought and action. Percival stepped in to help Gwaine with Leon.

"Shut it off!" Leon roared, throwing himself against Gwaine and Percival. His voice galvanized the rest of them, all except Arthur, who couldn't feel his body.

"Elyan you piece of shit," Leon yelled, heaving against Gwaine and Percival. "Shut the fucking thing OFF!"

Merlin was screaming. It was a sound like broken glass, fading in and out around other sounds, things Arthur couldn't make out around Merlin's voice shredding itself raw over his phone line.

"I CAN'T SHUT IT OFF," Elyan raged, coming to his feet.

Elyan, who never raised his voice to anyone. Leon fell back as if slapped.

"It's a fucking landline," Elyan snapped. "It has to stay connected, if I shut the damn thing off now, the dial tone could give him away!"

Elyan was breathing hard. His eyes blazed.

"Now get in the fucking cars," he said, spitting the words at them.

As if in a trance, Arthur unhooked his phone from Elyan's computer and lowered the volume. Not all the way. Just in case there was anything important to hear. Then he turned for the parlor door.

The rest of them followed, silently checking and rechecking they had everything they might need.

Hunith, Gwen and Tom were standing at the door. Arthur tried to ignore the phone in his pocket as he swept outside. He'd let Gwaine and Lancelot explain. He needed to get moving.

He didn't have room in his head for anymore than that.

"How long?" He managed, sliding into the passenger seat. Morganna glanced at him, Leon and Gwaine filing into the back.

"Two hours."

"Make it less," he said.

She shifted the rover into gear.

* * *

Merlin struggled to lift his head. He thought he might have blacked out for a time, he couldn't be sure. He was cold.

That surprised him.

Even in the damp basement he hadn't really acknowledged the cold. He'd been dressed for a walk out on the Cliffs when they'd grabbed him. Now his long wool coat and most of his clothing were laying in a heap somewhere on the floor, he guessed.

He was standing, mostly. His knee ached where Agravaine had kicked him. Sigan had put him in handcuffs this time, tightened them excessively, especially over his swollen wrist. He thought he could handle that though, until Sigan had pulled his hands over his head. Looped the handcuffs with a length of wire over a ceiling beam and had Agravaine yank him up to his feet. The weight of his own body on his broken wrist strangled the first scream out of him. His shoulders strained. Agravaine didn't stop until he was practically on his toes.

Then Sigan stood back, and let Agravaine hit him.

Now Merlin lifted his head, sluggishly. Someone dumped a bucket of freezing water over his head. He choked. Coughing. Flinched back from the sound of the plastic bucket hitting the floor with a dull thud. Footsteps retreating. A door slammed. 

Sigan was sitting in front of him, in the chair Merlin had been dropped into when they had first brought him down into the basement. He had one of his legs crossed over the other, his head leaned casually on the arm of the chair as if he were pondering where to go for dinner.

Merlin shook.

Sigan was idly tapping a knife against his crossed knee, black eyes watching Merlin coming back from the edges of oblivion. He smiled. It was the kind of smile you saw on pumpkins and scarecrows. Empty behind the too wide curve of lips and teeth.

"You know I only did it for your own good, Merlin," Sigan said suddenly.

"Did what?" Merlin rasped. He didn't want to engage Sigan in whatever this was. But as long as he was talking, Agravaine wasn't hitting him, and he couldn't do that again.

Sigan stood and flattened a hand, gently, over Merlin's scar, visible over his waistband of his briefs. Merlin sucked in a shallow breath, blue eyes widening in the dim light.

"You know what," Sigan said, against his cheek.

"You've never been very good at taking care of yourself," Sigan continued, his fingers tracing the line of the scar, dipping into Merlin's briefs without heat.

Merlin was very still, staring at a point over Sigan's shoulder.

"That's why I had Agravaine keep an eye on you for me. I knew you would fall apart without me there to help you along. Remind you of your place."

"You tried to kill me," Merlin whispered.

" _Kill you?!_ " he screamed it in Merlin's ear, making Merlin jerk back with a cry of his own. Sigan caught him around the mouth, his fingers digging into Merlin's jaw, shaking him.

"If I'd wanted to kill you, lover, you'd be dead."

Merlin gasped when Sigan let him go. Froze when he pressed the point of his knife against his scar. Then, casually, let it drift to the right side of the straight line he'd cut into Merlin five years ago, now.

And began to trace the shape of an 'S' there.

"What do you want?" Merlin managed, his muscles jerking with every gentle pass of the blade. On the other side of Merlin's scar, he was tracing the letter 'G'.

Sigan tilted his head thoughtfully. Looking at Merlin's stomach and his knife, not at Merlin's face anymore.

"Your Arthur is very resilient, isn't he?" Sigan said.

The sound of Arthur's name broke something inside of Merlin. Not all the way through. But there was a crack now, where there hadn't been before. Idly, the knife traced the letter 'A' on his skin, pressing harder than the other letters. Merlin hissed.

"Even after you showed him those photos, and the text messages, and all of that dirty press coverage...he didn't leave you."

"That's why you sent them?" Merlin said, floundering a little. "To get Arthur to leave me?"

The knife flashed and Merlin's head flew to the side, a thin, razor fine cut opening across his cheek.

" _I sent them_ ," Sigan said, breathing hard. "So you would come to your senses and come home."

Merlin didn't understand. But pointing out to Sigan that he'd been in jail until very recently didn't seem like the smart thing to say at the moment.

"Do you think," Sigan said, his voice calm again, the knife resuming it's tracery on his skin. The 'N' now. "Your Arthur will still be able to love you when you have my name written all over you?"

Merlin did, actually.

But _he_ wouldn't be able to look at himself, touch himself, ever again.

He let out a sob, tipping his hips back away from the knife as discretely as he could.

"Sigan, please," he whispered. Forced himself to say the only that he could think of to stop the press of that blade against his skin. "Arthur isn't here. It's just you and me, here now."

The knife point paused, pricking him. Making him jump.

"And?" Sigan prompted, running his free hand through Merlin's wet hair.

"Why bother teaching him a lesson he isn't here to see?" Merlin said, leaning forward, closing his eyes so Sigan wouldn't see him recoil when their foreheads touched. "Teach me one instead."

The knife was gone. Merlin felt Sigan take hold of him, his slender hands splayed across Merlin's heaving ribs. His touch was a gentle poison under Merlin's skin. Somehow tender, in it's own way. Merlin swallowed his urge to throw up.

"He's left you here," Sigan said, forehead still pressed to Merlin's. "You understand that now, don't you?"

Merlin nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak.

"I'm the only one who came back for you, Merlin. I'm the only one who ever will."

Merlin's eyes were still closed tight. He was crying. He told himself he wasn't going to cry.

He told himself a lot of things, while Sigan reached down the back of his briefs, and kissed his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Recap**
> 
> Merlin frees himself from his zip ties after Sigan leaves him alone in the basement. There are no windows but Merlin finds a landline phone and manages to get a dial tone. He calls Arthur and then continues searching for a way out. In his attempt to open the heavy storm door that leads out into the yard, Merlin is grabbed back into the basement again by Agravaine. Sigan lets Agravaine beat Merlin savagely. He watches. 
> 
> Back in Belfast, Arthur gets a phone call. There's dead air on the line, but Elyan is able to trace it to Mullingar, West of Dublin. Arthur, his knights and Morganna all start the two hour drive to the coordinates Elyan has triangulated. 
> 
> Waking back up in the cellar, Merlin and Sigan talk. Sigan is obviously deranged, and continues to tell Merlin that Arthur left him. That Sigan is the only one who came back for him. Merlin pretends to agree. 
> 
> It is implied that the result of Merlin's agreement is sexual assault.


	38. Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigan gets ready to move Merlin somewhere else where they can "start over".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💋

* * *

"Sigan?"

Merlin didn't want to stop Sigan from finally leaving him alone. But he did. He didn't need Leon whispering in his ear to know that he needed to get his arms down from over his head. His fingertips, his elbows, his shoulders were all cold now.

Sigan paused, his foot on the bottom stair, his hand loose on the railing. He looked at Merlin with his eyebrows raised. He looked, genuinely surprised, Merlin thought.

"Yes?" He said, leaning his hip a little into the rail. Merlin dropped his gaze.

He struggled for a minute with how to ask for what he wanted. Tried to tread as carefully as he could manage. But he wasn't really sure anymore what Sigan expected of him. He wasn't sure he'd ever known to begin with.

"May I come down?" He said quietly.

Sigan stepped back into the basement, circling Merlin, arms crossed.

"You think I'll take them off just because you ask so nicely, like you deserve anything after that stunt you pulled earlier?"

Merlin swallowed.

"No," he said hoarsely. "I..."

He had to stop himself. Try again.

"I know I don't deserve you...taking them off," he said brokenly. He prayed that Sigan couldn't hear the stiff apathy in his tone. Like someone else, reading off a script.

Sigan reached up and closed his hand over Merlin's broken, swollen wrist.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth but he didn't scream. He would if that would get him down. He just didn't think that was what Sigan wanted from him, at the moment.

"Is it too tight for you?"

"Yes," Merlin ground out.

"Does it hurt?"

It didn't just hurt. He couldn't feel his hand anymore. His fingers were limp. He could barely move them.

"Sigan, please," he begged quietly. Lowering his head, just a fraction. Jerked his shoulder with a strangled cry when Sigan gripped his wrist harder still.

"And what will you do if I open them a little further? Slide out of them like you did with your zip ties? Did Arthur teach you that? How to move like a rat in a sewer drain?"

Merlin didn't flinch. But it was a near thing.

He said, very quietly,

"Can I sleep?"

Sigan lifted Merlin's head, finally letting go of his arm. And looking into Sigan's fathomless eyes, Merlin didn't need to to pretend to be completely paid out. He didn't actually think he could sleep. But he wanted to lay down. To get his hands lowered and moving again before they were damaged too badly to help him the next time he found an exit.

_You do what you have to do. But you find an exit. You don't stop until you do._

Sigan brushed a thumb under his eye. Merlin let him.

"Where do you want to sleep, lover? Here on the floor?"

Merlin closed his eyes.

"Wherever you think I belong," he said. The words were like gravel in his mouth.

"And if I think you belong right here, as you are?" Sigan said compassionately, as if he were teaching a lesson to a petulant child.

Merlin swallowed his first reaction. Took a breath. Said,

"Then I...won't ask again."

His whole body felt as heavy as his arms did, with the realization that he was going to be made to stand like this, in nothing but his briefs and still soaked to the bone and shaking. He pulled in one sharp, distressed breath.

And then, suddenly, the handcuff around his broken wrist snapped free, and he crashed to the floor with a startled shout, a boneless, trembling heap.

The door at the top of the stairs opened. Merlin curled up on the floor. A flash of white hot pins went tumbling, prickling, shimmering down both of his arms to the tips of his very pale fingers. It was so painful for a moment he jerked them closer as if he could shield himself from his own returning blood flow.

"We're alright down here, aren't we lover?" Sigan said with sincerity.

"Yes," Merlin forced himself to say. "We are."

The stairs creaked, and the door closed again with a faint click.

Sigan lowered himself to a crouch and held out his hand expectantly. Merlin handed him his broken wrist, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What a mess," Sigan sighed, looking over Merlin's hand, his arm, spreading his fingers against Sigan's palm. Merlin held his breath. And Sigan bent his wrist back to inspect the indents and the bruises the handcuffs had left in the heel of his hand.

Merlin jerked his knees into his own chest, curling up and gasping for air so that he wouldn't scream again. Sigan took his time. He started to cry again, unexpectedly. He'd thought he was done with that, now.

Then, a flash of inspiration.

"I started playing the piano again," Merlin sobbed, trying to make the statement sound as much like a normal conversation as humanly possible.

Sigan relaxed his grip a fraction.

"Did you?" Sigan said. And then he jerked Merlin forward, his palm closing over Merlin's wrist and Merlin fell, sprawling, half on top of Sigan as he took Merlin hard, by the throat.

"For Arthur?" Sigan hissed against his mouth.

Merlin held Sigan's gaze, and lied.

"No! No, Sigan, just my mum," he choked, trying to pull back. Letting out a startled yelp when Sigan gripped his throat, his wrist tighter. As if he could crush Merlin inside of his fist.

"You remember?" Merlin gasped, fighting the graying edges around his vision.

Honestly Merlin didn't know if he'd ever told Sigan his mother had a piano or that he used it to play, although Sigan was aware that Merlin knew his way around one. What he did know was that Sigan would never admit he didn't remember Merlin telling him something so personal.

His grip on Merlin's throat, on his wrist slackened a fraction. Merlin tried not to pull in a hard breath too obviously.

"I remember," Sigan said, leaning back to look Merlin over again, as if he'd only just seen him.

Merlin shook, and waited.

"Sit up," Sigan said then, and the words weren't entirely without compassion.

Gingerly, Merlin folded his legs underneath him, and didn't protest when Sigan took both his wrists again. Sigan closed the cuff back on his broken wrist, but left it loose and no longer cutting into him. Then he adjusted the the other to match.

Merlin closed his eyes. More tears. Out of relief this time.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Sigan kissed him. He did his best not to flinch.

And then Sigan was gone, heading back up the stairs.

Merlin watched him go quietly. And then hollowly, he picked himself up and found his coat, dirty but not wet from the water Agravaine had been dumping over his head whenever he passed out. Somehow it had remained mercifully dry.

He crawled under it, and closed his eyes.

He knew that when he was brought to this house, there were three men in the car with him and a driver. Sigan, Agravaine and Cedric made seven total, assuming they were all still on the property. Maybe more. Most probably less. Merlin had never been a fan of probabilities, but he had an equation for that. If he could confirm at least seven, or less than seven, he thought he could make a reasonable estimate about how many people were _physically_ standing in between him and the outside world.

He still needed an exit. But the only other way out of this basement was through the main door.

He ignored his pain. It was irrelevant to him now. Except for the cold numbness in his broken wrist. That, he remained obliquely aware of. Right now, although painful, the majority of his injuries were superficial. Deep bruising and some cuts. Scrapes on his shoulder blades and knees from the concrete floor. A bloody nose. Split lip.

But if feeling didn't start returning to his wrist soon, he would have a bigger problem on his hands. He flexed his fingers to keep the blood moving. It was still excruciating, which was a good sign. At least, that much he could feel.

He swallowed hard and just listened for a while.

Began cataloging distinct patterns of footsteps on the floor above him.

And then, he started to count.

* * *

It was a bad Op, they all knew it.

They had no idea what the ground looked like, no idea if there was a building on the spot they were driving too. They didn't know if it was secured, or by how many people, or if it were even possible to get close to Elyan's coordinates by car.

If it had been anyone else, Gwaine would never have agreed to let anyone lead them into unknown territory, with unknown hostiles, without a response team. But this wasn't just anyone else.

And neither was his team.

"It's a two story farmhouse on a private road," Gwaine was relaying from his phone. Arthur was watching over his shoulder intently. Leon was sharp and alert at his shoulder.

Gwaine listened as Elyan gave the rest of his briefing.

"It belongs to the Sigan family. It's former owner was Eloise Sigan...she is survived by her sons, Cornelius and Cedric."

Leon looked like he wanted to punch something.

"They're brothers?!" He hissed.

"Step brothers," Gwaine said, meeting Arthur's eye.

"How far out?" Leon said, leaning forward to put a hand on Morganna's shoulder.

"Ten minutes," she said.

Arthur let a breath out of his nose.

"Keep going," he said to Gwaine. His voice was indescribable to them all in the small space. He hadn't spoken more than single, efficient sentences for the last twelve hours; not that anyone expected more from him. But for the first time since this whole thing had started, Gwaine thought Arthur sounded tired.

Gwaine tipped his head back to the phone.

"What's your assessment?" He said to Elyan.

"Drive by the access road first. I don't think the house can see the road based on these maps but it's December. The tree coverage will be minimal and the sun will be up in two hours. We have daylight to account for now."

Gwaine glanced out the windshield of the SUV. The sky was still dark, but it was beginning to make her transition from night to day, flushing brightly - the darkness taking on a note of deep royal blue and purple.

"Morganna," Gwaine said. "When we approach the property, drive normally, and pass it once first."

She nodded.

There was one more call to make. He hadn't thought it would be any other way, really, even if they had all the intel in the world. But they didn't have a choice now that Elyan had confirmed the property was isolated, and likely they wouldn't be able to see much of it before they approached.

Arthur's cellphone had gone silent for the last forty minutes. Gwaine watched as Arthur idly swiped his thumb along the screen, checking to make sure the call was still connected. It was a smooth gesture. Calm.

Gwaine had only seen Arthur set his shoulders like that before, in one other place in his life. A different life, in a sun-scarred desert a million miles away from them now.

"Tell the boys," Gwaine said to Elyan. "We're going in live. Every man's discretion."

"Understood," Elyan said.

He disconnected the call.

Morganna was frowning. She looked into her review mirror, catching Leon's eyes.

"Every man's discretion?" She repeated quietly.

Leon opened his mouth to answer her.

"It means no one will be holding fire," Arthur said, swiping at his phone screen again. "It means every one makes their own call about when to start shooting, if it comes to that."

Gwaine didn't say anything and neither did Leon to reassure Morganna any further.

They all knew it was going to come that.

* * *

Merlin woke to water filling his throat.

He choked, sucked in huge mouthfuls of freezing water, jerked wildly against the hands on his shoulders, the back of his head. His lungs were burning. He scrambled wildly, and finally just when he thought he would pass out, a big hand on the back of his neck jerked him back and out of the water.

Merlin wretched violently onto the cement floor, gasping painfully between heaves. Agravaine was dragging him back over the bucket of water, and Sigan was crouched by his shoulder, watching.

Merlin kicked the bucket viciously, still heaving for breath. The water fountained across the floor, the plastic bucket thumping hard on the concrete.

Agravaine was still holding him down by the back of his neck. Merlin was shaking again. He tried to think back to when he must have fallen asleep. How many footsteps had he confirmed?

Four he thought. Five, assuming there was still someone roaming the grounds. Less than the seven they started with. He wasn't sure why that seemed important to him just now.

Sigan was grinning.

He took a fist full of Merlin's curls and squeezed, sending more water down over Merlin's face, and he coughed again. His heart was pounding.

"Up with you now," Sigan said, as if he were rousing Merlin from an afternoon nap. "We're leaving."

Merlin started badly.

"Leaving?" He rasped.

His volume wouldn't seem to rise. He'd been trying for a shout in case the phone in the closet was still connected, in case someone was listening. But he couldn't do it. He was losing his voice.

Agravaine hoisted him to his feet and Merlin stumbled, Sigan steadying him with cold hands on his wet shoulders.

"Yes," Sigan said decisively. "We're going to start over, you and I. And maybe someday I'll even forgive you, for all the grief you've caused."

Merlin didn't have any words for that statement. He wasn't sure he would have said them even if he had. Agravaine was hauling him off toward the stairs now, Sigan ahead of them, and twice Merlin had to make a grab at the railing for balance, his handcuffs rattling against the wood. He was dizzy now that he was moving but he had to steady his thoughts. If he passed out and they carried him away, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. As long as his eyes were open, he could at least try.

Up the stairs and on to the lower floor, Agravaine dumped him into a chair at the kitchen table. Merlin lifted his head and caught the bright digital glow of the clock on the stove. Six A.M. Was it still the day after Christmas? Or the day after that?

He couldn't remember.

Merlin jerked when a pile of clothing was tossed into his lap. A pair of jeans thumped to the floor but reflexively he grabbed for the rest.

"Take him to the bathroom and get him dressed," Sigan said, starting up the stairs to the second floor.

Agravaine lifted him bodily by the arm and practically threw him at another short hallway off the kitchen. He caught himself on the doorframe, the clothing he'd been carrying tumbling to the tile under his feet. Agravaine sneered, and lowered himself to the floor to pick them up.

Merlin stared at the top of his head. His skin was prickling. He was breathing very fast now. Above him he could hear Sigan moving.

The open door to the basement was at Agravaine's back.

As Agravaine came to his feet, Merlin dropped the circle of his arms over Agravaine's still bowed head. For a fraction of a second Agravaine didn't understand. And then Merlin jerked the chain of his handcuffs across the back of Agravaine's thick neck, and yanked his head into Merlin's chest. Agravaine grunted, slamming Merlin back into the wall. It knocked the breath out of Merlin, but he didn't let go, forcing Agravaine's face hard into his own sternum.

Agravaine stumbled.

The one, crucial step Merlin needed him to. Back. Toward the open basement door.

 _Drop your weight, Merlin._ Leon said in his ear.

Merlin jumped, lifting both of his legs between him and Agravaine and dropped all of his weight onto the back of Agravaine's neck. Agravaine folded, crashing hard into the floor and tumbling backwards down the stairs with an animal yell. Merlin was yanked down with him, his handcuffs stopping him from letting go as soon as they'd started to fall. He jerked himself free, struck his head on one of the stairs and grabbed blindly for the railing.

He caught it and jerked to a sudden bone-jarring stop. For one horrifying second he felt Agravaine grab for his ankle. And then Agravaine was gone.

He didn't turn around. The crash on the stairs told him enough. He scrambled wildly for the top of the stairs and swung around the door just in time to miss a swing from one of the men who had grabbed him into the car.

It was a wild, panicked dodge and he ran for the front door when suddenly the guy grabbed his handcuffs, jerking him around. The yank on his broken wrist tore a scream out of him, and he crashed down on his knees, hard. The man backhanded him across the face and Merlin saw an explosion of stars across his vision.

And then a sound Merlin didn't quite understand, like a melon breaking on a stone floor.

The pressure on his wrists was gone and he didn't question it, jerked his head up to get his bearings, to keep running -

And fell brokenly into Arthur's arms.

* * *

Morganna pulled the SUV up onto the side of the road after they had passed the private drive where the farmhouse stood on it's solitary lot.

She reached over and took Arthur by the back of the head, surprising both Leon and Gwaine, and drew her brother to her, speaking fiercely into his hair.

"I'll give you a one minute lead," she whispered. "Then I'm making the call."

Arthur nodded, but he didn't immediately pull away.

"Go get him back," she said.

Arthur stepped out of the SUV into the dawning, early morning twilight. Gwaine and Leon followed. Lancelot, Percy and Elyan stepping up to meet them.

They put on their gear.

Leon leaned into Morganna's window, and handed her a belt holster.

"It's my service pistol," Leon said.

Morganna pulled the gun free and checked the clip, the chamber.

"A glock?" She said.

"Yeah, so if you have to use it, brace your shoulder."

She nodded and as he turned to go she took a fistfull of his jumper and halted him briefly. They stared at one another. Leon smiled.

And then he was gone.

Morganna rolled up the window and climbed over the front seat of SUV. She pushed the seats back to make room on the floor and crouched behind the driver's side backrest.

While Arthur and the others started up the road, separating into two teams of three, she checked the safety on the gun Leon had given her, and then looked at her watch.

The second hand ticked along the surface of the elegant glass face. She took a deep breath as the hands made their full rotation and then pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket.

The call picked up on the second ring.

Morganna began whispering hysterically into the phone.

"Hello?" She whimpered. She wasn't the kind of person who could cry on queue, but she could make it sound good enough.

The operator asked her firmly what her emergency was.

"My brother's gotten a ransom call," she whispered frantically into the phone. "For his boyfriend, and I told him not to go but he wouldn't listen to me and - "

"Ma'am," the voice cut her off, not unkindly. "Who is your brother and where did he go?"

Morganna glanced at the now empty dirt packed road.

She told them.

* * *

Gwaine and Leon flanked Arthur as they made their way silently up the long private road to the farmhouse. They stayed along the far side of the road, pressed against the shadows of the tree cover there, Elyan, Percival and Lancelot taking the opposite side.

They were efficient, when they moved together. Even Lancelot had no trouble finding his stride. And they made it quickly and quietly up to the front of the dilapidated white house.

Gwaine took the man packing the car in the driveway silently, with a chokehold. They let the man circling the house pass out of sight for now.

Then they went in through the garage.

Arthur took point. He came around the first hallway and knelt, his side arm a comforting, easy weight in his hand, waiting as the others filed in, checking doors, taking their next positions. Gwaine stood with his hip to Arthur's shoulder, looking down the sight of his rifle. Confirmed it was all clear.

They moved again and their positions changed. Percival and Leon came around the next corner with Arthur first, Lancelot and the others disappearing down an adjacent hall.

It was so quiet. And then suddenly Arthur heard a guttural cry and crashing noise that detonated in the old house like a thunderclap. Scrambling footsteps.

Arthur forced himself not to run. Percival had one hand on his shoulder as they moved, steadying him. The three of them turned their focus in the direction of the noise.

Merlin crashed into the wall opposite them and Arthur opened his mouth to call out when another man grabbed for Merlin, wrenching him off of his feet and backhanding him hard across the face.

Arthur took aim, and fired.

The man went down with finality at Merlin's feet. He lurched up and stumbled, suddenly catching sight of Arthur there.

Arthur had already reholstered his weapon.

Merlin was soaked and shaking, in nothing but his briefs and a pair of handcuffs. There was deep bruise on the side of his face, a fine cut along his cheek and his full bottom lip was so deeply split the scab that was forming over it looked black in the dawn light.

Arthur caught him when Merlin made a grab for him.

"Agravaine is in the basement," Merlin rapt out, hysterically, his shaking redoubling in Arthur's arms. "I don't know if he's conscious. Sigan is upstairs. There's at least one more on this floor, but I don't - I can't remember -"

Arthur was cradling the back of Merlin's head, covering him, his cheek pressed against Merlin's cheek.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I've got you. We have to move, love."

Leon was already heading further into the house to meet up with the others. Arthur turned to Percival, the two of them switching positions, Arthur unholstering his weapon as Percival holstered his own.

Merlin was clinging to his arm.

"Don't go," he pleaded. The handcuffs jangled against Arthur's jumper.

"I'm not leaving you," Arthur said quietly, keeping an eye on the room. "I just can't carry you, love. It's okay."

Without warning or preamble Percy lifted Merlin into his arms. Merlin let Arthur go and very gently, Percy looped Merlin's bound hands around his neck.

"I've got you Merlin," he said, adjusting his grip. "Just hold on to me."

He stood, and Merlin gripped his shirt in his good hand.

The house was momentarily filled with a scrabbling sound and footsteps. The slam of a door.

And then suddenly Sigan was there, standing in front of Arthur, who was still on one knee at the corner of the hall, waiting for Percy to give him the signal to move. He had a neatly compact .22 in his hand which he had pointed at Arthur's forehead.

He didn't speak. There were no grandiose gestures.

Merlin was already screaming.

Sigan pulled the trigger.

* * *

Arthur had just enough time to grab Sigan's wrist before the gun went off. He grunted, feeling like someone had just thumped him hard on the back, and he fell, crashing down into the floor.

Percy had a fist around his belt and was dragging him out of Sigan's reach, shielding Merlin as best as he could. He was sure Sigan would fire again when suddenly, Sigan stopped moving. 

Leon was standing behind him, gun leveled at Sigan's head.

"Oh please," Sigan said as if he were bored with them all. He turned to face Leon, tossing his gun away. "You won't kill me outright. You'd be thrown in jail for gunning down an unarmed man."

"You think so, mate?" Leon said, and without drama lowered his line of sight and fired once into Sigan's shoulder.

Merlin flinched. Sigan jerked to the side with a startled roar, but didn't fall.

"Because it looks to me like you didn't take my warning shot very seriously just now."

Sigan opened his mouth as if he had a retort to this.

Then Leon put a bullet in Sigan's head.

Arthur reached up. Groped for Merlin's arm. Merlin lowered his forehead to Arthur's hand, closed weakly on his elbow, sobbing now.

"Arthur," he said, struggling to free his arms from Percival's neck and shoulders.

"It's okay," Arthur said quietly. In the windows Merlin was faintly aware of flashing blue lights. The sounds of sirens.

Leon was kneeling beside Arthur, pressing his hands down into the wound site.

"Elyan!" Leon roared over his shoulder.

"Let Percy help you," Arthur said quietly. There was blood underneath him, pooling on the floor.

Percy kept him from grabbing for Arthur, but he didn't pull Merlin away from Arthur's hand. He stayed kneeling on the floor, cradling Merlin against him, while Merlin turned his cheek against the back of Arthur's hand still trapped in the ditch of his elbow.

Elyan was coming. Leon moved out of the way efficiently to make room for him. Gwaine and the others were running over.

Arthur only had eyes for Merlin. Merlin couldn't look away, tears he was sure he didn't have left spilling down the sides of his nose, onto Arthur's wrist.

"I know that look," Merlin whispered to Arthur. "I'm not going to like this next part, am I?"

Arthur gave Merlin a weak snort, just managing a smile for him.

"You have to let Percival take you out outside," he said. "I'll be right behind you."

Merlin was already shaking his head, but Percy was standing up and there was nothing Merlin could do about it. Arthur's hand slipped off his arm.

"Arthur!" He roared, his voice breaking, finally lost at the end.

"Leon," Arthur murmured, barely aware that Gwaine was tearing open his shirt and jumper in his fists. Elyan had his hands inside Arthur's collar, putting pressure on the wound as best he could.

Leon bolted for Merlin and Percy, took Merlin's good hand in his and squeezed. Shielding Merlin's line of sight to Arthur with his body.

"It's okay," he was saying as he and Percy carefully opened the door. Lights flooded the front yard. Morganna was running up the snow-covered hill to them, trailed by two village constables.

"Arthur!" Merlin was calling back into the house, voice only managing the dusty shape of words no matter how hard he tried to yell.

Lancelot was coming out of the house now too. Merlin felt as though everything were moving in slow motion. The blue lights flashing against the snow. Morganna's hair falling out of her ponytail, cascading like falling water as Leon caught her, before she could run inside. 

"Arthur!" Merlin tried again. 

Lancelot was reaching for him. 

Merlin heaved for breath against Percy's shoulder. He reached out with his fingers but only brushed Lancelot's hand with his own. 

As Percy carried him to the ambulance wailing in the driveway, Merlin's head dropped back, his whole body finally going limp in the bigger man's strong arms. 

And then Merlin couldn't hear or see anything, anymore.


	39. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get through the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I'm so amazed still, so completely blown away by all of the beautiful, funny, expressive comments you all leave for me to read. I'm sorry I haven't been answering them directly, or giving you much proper chapter notes for the last few updates. I wanted to keep myself from giving anything away, much as I could. But we're through the worst of it now. And I just can't begin to explain how much it means to me, that you all have stuck with me this far. I hope you enjoy this update to bring you into your weekends. 
> 
> As always, stay safe and be kind, and I'll be back soon 💋

* * *

He woke briefly in the ambulance. Leon was there, staying well out of the way of the paramedics, but standing, so Merlin would see him if he woke up.

He was suddenly in so much pain he couldn't speak. Couldn't have done even if he wanted to, with the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. His shaking wasn't from the cold anymore. It was all in the effort of not screaming as the paramedics assessed his broken wrist.

And then, mercifully, darkness again.

The next time he woke up, they were bringing him into the surgery.

Blindly, he reached his good hand out from under the emergency blankets. Leon took it.

He didn't have time to be afraid. But he was. For one dizzying heartbeat, and then another, he thought there was a knife wound in his side, and it was Gwen's hand, not Leon's, in his.

He cried, and he wasn't ashamed.

Now, the first thing he noticed as he came back from the graying edges of oblivion, was the light.

It was a warm yellow light coming from somewhere off to his left. There was a damp chill lingering on top of his skin, the way the layers of your clothing can sometimes get cold during a harsh winter evening before your body can. It ached, and he wished it would pass, but it didn't. He let out a noise, one of sudden, heaving distress, and a body moved against him on the bed.

His mother sat up beside him, her eyes sleep haunted and red rimmed, and put a warm hand on his face. Brushed his hair back off his brow, careful of the bandages there. He remembered, vaguely, striking his head on the stairs when he'd thrown Agravaine into the basement.

"Oh Merlin," she whispered, kissing his face. Her tears were warm too.

He clutched at her, and she closed her arms over him, rocking, reaching for the button to call the nurse.

Merlin still felt too cold. He tried to tell her, tried to apologize for a thousand agonies he had caused her, tried so hard not to cry that it hurt the back of his throat and he couldn't speak.

"You're okay," Hunith whispered into his hair. "You're okay, my love. I'm right here."

She said it, he knew, because the nurses were trying to get him to let her go. He did his best, but it still took him long seconds to lie back and let them ask their questions. Let them make their checks.

He found out then he actually couldn't speak. He'd lost his voice in the farmhouse in Mullingar, and he'd been intubated when he'd gone into surgery for his wrist. His throat burned. Someone tipped a cup of water to his mouth for him. But that hurt too. He could only swallow so much.

Hunith pressed her forehead against his. Brushed the stray moisture from his lashes with her gentle hands.

"He's okay," she whispered, and Merlin cried harder, silently. "Arthur's okay. They all are."

The Doctor came in then.

"Welcome back," he said absently, and when Hunith lifted her head, Merlin tried to focus on him.

"You've been asleep for two days, son. How are you feeling? On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, give me a number to describe your pain."

Merlin held up eight fingers.

The doctor studied him then, as he prepared to give Merlin something through his IV line to help.

"You've had an emergency surgery on your broken wrist, and you've sustained a number of other injuries besides," he said seriously. "You can be honest with me about your pain. You must be very brave, to say it's only an eight, when it's clearly a ten."

Merlin let out a helpless sob. He didn't feel brave. He wanted to go home.

"You'll have about six minutes before that takes you under," the Doctor said. "We'll have a talk about your surgery and your injuries when you've had some more time to recover."

And then he left.

Merlin watched him go, and Arthur was waiting in the doorway, his arm in a black sling that kept it strapped down to his chest.

Merlin reached for him. He couldn't do anything more.

Gently, Arthur took his hand and sat down on the other side of the bed. But that wouldn't do at all. Merlin grabbed for Arthur's shoulder instead, and with a startled protest Arthur did his best not to disturb the bandages and cords and IVs as he closed his one good arm around Merlin's slackening body, holding him up.

Merlin clutched at him, fisting his hand in the back of Arthur's shirt as if proving to himself he were real.

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered gently. "I'm okay, Merlin. I'm okay."

He heaved into Arthur's shoulder, completely cried out and still wanting desperately to continue doing it.

Arthur hugged him back as fiercely as he were able to, until Merlin's heart rate on the monitor slowed, and once again he was plunged into darkness.

* * *

The days that followed the incident at the Mullingar farmhouse, seemed to be filled with endless long hours of sleep, to Merlin. The days passed too quickly for him to keep track anymore.

The police came and went. So did his doctors.

Sigan was dead. Somehow, the only casualty to the whole affair. The rest of them were in custody. Cedric, too. They'd caught up with him at a private airfield, where Sigan had been planning to fly out of.

Merlin didn't really want to hear it. But he listened anyway.

Arthur told a good story, about receiving a ransom call for Merlin. And even though he knew it was dangerous, he was just so overcome with emotion, he had to do what Sigan said. If Arthur didn't come without the police he'd threatened to hurt Merlin.

If the constables taking down Arthur's statement had any questions about why Arthur hadn't brought any money to this alleged ransom exchange, and instead brought with him a team of five ex-soldiers in full kit, they didn't ask. Arthur had six witnesses who backed up his version of events, and Morganna's emergency call. They'd gone in to get Merlin back, Sigan shot Arthur, and Leon had shot Sigan.

No arrests had been made among Arthur, Gwaine, Leon and the rest of them. But the Detective Inspector warned Leon there was a possibility Sigan's Estate would ask them to file charges.

Leon wasn't concerned. And the D.I. agreed that the wound pattern was consistent with self-defense.

"You got my call?" Merlin said to Arthur, when the D.I. had closed the door behind him. His voice was still raw and whisper-soft. But he could speak now.

Arthur smoothed Merlin's hair back from his forehead.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I did."

Merlin swallowed hard and winced. He couldn't look directly at Arthur, and tilted his head away a fraction.

"Whatever you heard, Arthur - "

But Arthur had lowered his head to Merlin's chest, and was already shaking his head firmly, against Merlin's sternum.

"Don't," Arthur whispered. "It's okay."

Merlin brushed his good hand over Arthur's hair.

"It wasn't your fault," Merlin said.

* * *

He'd gotten past the point where the doctors and nurses were willing to look the other way when they found Arthur or Hunith still at his bedside well after visiting hours.

The thought occurred to him belatedly, when he'd woken up alone in a dark hospital room. At first he felt okay. It was quiet. Outside the occasional movement of the nurses and their trolleys.

And then the beeping on his own heart monitor began ticking up. Fast. Too fast.

The door to his room opened. He expected it to be one of the nurses.

But it was Leon.

Merlin grabbed for him as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Hey," Leon said quietly.

He was holding on to the back of Merlin's neck, and Merlin was trying to breathe slowly through his nose.

"What happened?" Merlin asked Leon hoarsely.

Leon studied him for a minute. Watched the frantic pulse on Merlin's heart monitor plateau momentarily. He let Merlin hold on to him as he spoke.

"He missed his vest, when he knocked Sigan's gun down," Leon said gently, as if he'd told Merlin more than once already. Merlin supposed he had. But he could never seem to remember it, when he first woke up. Just Arthur, and a bullet hole, and Percival carrying Merlin away.

"It nicked his collarbone, but it didn't go all the way through his shoulder. He'll be in a sling for a while, but he's okay."

Merlin took a deep breath at last. Then another.

"They let you stay?" He said after a long silence. Leon still had one firm hand on the back of Merlin's neck.

"I'm your bodyguard, remember?" Leon said, almost smiling. "They aren't going to ask me to leave."

_They won't like the answer they get, if they do._

Merlin held on to him, closing his eyes against the worn leather of Leon's jacket.

"You should be really proud, Merlin," Leon whispered, once the beeping on his heart monitor had leveled off. "I know I am."

Merlin didn't cry this time. But he held on to Leon like his life depended on it, his good hand shaking where he was still clutching Leon's shirt.

His other wrist was in a cast, and they'd had to put three screws through the bone to fix the break. It hurt so much that Merlin wasn't sure he'd ever want to move it again. The doctor's assured him the damage would be eased with therapy and time. There was no reason to believe he wouldn't use it again.

It was a heavy weight on Leon's back. But he said nothing. None of them said anything to Merlin about his attempts to hold on to any of them, when he saw them. They all waited him out. Talking, as if they were sitting calmly at the breakfast table. Even Elyan, whom Merlin had always considered indifferent toward him, more or less.

Merlin still couldn't believe that Lancelot was there. He remembered him, at the end, while he was being laid out in the ambulance. Lancelot's hand on his face, closing on his arm. But after everything that had happened, the shock of Lance's presence there, hadn't sunk in until later.

Merlin _did_ cry, when Lancelot and Gwen came to see him. He didn't want them to leave.

It took Percival the longest to finally come up for visiting hours. Gwaine was attempting to show Merlin a magic trick he wasn't very good at, when Percival entered the room, leaning on the doorframe.

"Ah well, you get the idea," Gwaine said, flipping the cards over in frustration with a smile.

"That's not how magic tricks work," Merlin laughed, leaning back. "You can't just say - "

He trailed off, noticing Percy in the door. Gwaine looked over his shoulder and grinned. Offered Merlin an easy fistbump as he stood.

"I'll go find Arthur," he said. "Probably got himself stuck in the caf line."

Merlin snorted, his head lolling a little on his pillows.

"He knows how a queue works," Merlin said, not really arguing. Gwaine smiled a little more gently this time as he left.

Percival came in slowly, and pulled up a chair.

"Hey," he said.

Merlin smiled weakly. Someone had told him what the bruises on Percy's face were from, but he couldn't remember who now.

"Hey," he said back.

"Merlin," he started, his face a calm mask. It was almost believable. The storm in his dark eyes gave him away. "About what happened in Doolin..."

It was selfish, but Merlin didn't want to hear what Percy was going to say. He was feeling alright today. And he didn't want to know. To add anymore weight to what had happened to them all.

He reached out for Percival and gripped the sleeve of his coat, tugging sharply. Percival stopped talking to look at him.

"You carried me out," Merlin said quietly. "You got me here."

Percy lowered his head. They didn't speak again, until Gwaine and Arthur had come back, but Percival had turned his wrist over in Merlin's hand, and sat, holding Merlin's wrist in his own.

They separated when Arthur set a paper cup on the tray beside Merlin's bed. Tea, wisps of steam just barely visible against the white linens.

Percival and Gwaine left.

Arthur sat down, careful of his arm. Merlin stared at the black sling for a long time.

"You'll be discharged soon," Arthur said gently.

Merlin made a noise in agreement, relief maybe, he wasn't sure.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked him. Arthur gave him a pale smile. Took his hand.

"I have to go back to England soon," Arthur said. "I'll understand if you want to stay here, to recover at your mum's house."

He started to say more, but Merlin felt the sharp pain in his chest that usually preceded a wild beeping from his heart monitor. They'd removed that though. So his panic was silent in the room between them.

It was irrational, Merlin knew that. Arthur was safe, and so was he. But the thought of sleeping one more night without Arthur within arm's length, without Arthur where he could reach him, made Merlin's pulse jump wildly in his throat.

"I want to go _home_ ," Merlin said, already breathing too hard.

Merlin moved to the side of the bed as far as he could go, to distract himself. Arthur looked like he might protest. And then with a single glance at the closed door, he carefully got his good arm under Merlin, and laid down with him.

Merlin closed his good arm around Arthur's waist. Breathed him in. He knew he was holding on too tightly, he was starting to shake again, but for the first time since they'd made their way down to the Cliffs, Merlin felt warm.

Arthur tightened his hold on him, and that was good too. Merlin curled up, feeling tired all of a sudden, and said,

"Do you want me to stay?"

He felt rather than heard the breath Arthur sucked in at his question.

"Oh love," he said. "I want you to be comfortable. I want you to feel safe. But I don't know if I'll survive it, if I have to leave you again. I might have to open an office in Belfast."

Merlin laughed, but he was crying too. The panic was easing into something bigger, something that sparkled against his ribs.

"It wouldn't be that hard," Morganna said from the door. "My office could use a partnership with a company like CamelotGIS."

Arthur was grinning.

Morganna shut the door behind her. Set down an enormous bouquet of foxgloves, dog roses, and elder blossoms. It smelled like summer. She smiled down at him, kissed his brow.

"How are you, Merlin?"

He gave her a watery smile. It wasn't entirely a lie.

"Better," he offered. "Thank you."

She sat in a chair beside him, entirely unconcerned with her brother, laying in the bed beside him. Unconcerned by Merlin's wet cheeks.

They talked for a while, until Merlin was drifting, his portion of the conversation coming more slowly than when they had started. He felt Morganna brush his hair back before she left. And then, he was falling asleep.

Arthur shifted beside him.

"Don't go," Merlin breathed against Arthur's shoulder.

He didn't.

* * *

Hunith came back to England with them. She stayed at the Pendragon Estate with Arthur and Merlin for the full eight weeks it took for his recovery. He needed to take a painkiller for his wrist, every four hours for two weeks. If he missed the four hour mark, sometimes he would wake up shaking from the pain. Hunith and Arthur alternated staying with him, making sure he took his prescriptions on time. Making sure he wasn't alone.

When one or both of them were sleeping or working, Leon laid on the bed with him, and Merlin slept with his nose pressed into Leon's back.

There wasn't a trial, for Agravaine or Cedric. Both of them pleaded guilty to the laundry list of charges laid at their feet. It relieved Merlin, to some extent.

They were never given an explanation for why Agravaine and Cedric did what they did. Cedric and Sigan were stepbrothers. And it came out later that Agravaine was Cedric's brother-in-law.

Other than that, they probably would never really know.

Lancelot came back to England with Gwen. He'd taken up residence in the Brixton flat with her, and they visited Merlin every chance they got.

Dr. Gaius visited him too, once Merlin could navigate the stairs on his own. They played chess in the parlor and Hunith finally got to meet her son's mentor in person. Merlin told him about Mordred, and Gaius beamed.

Elyan read to him, when he was too tired to get out of bed during the day. Sometimes, Leon came in to listen. It only happened occasionally, when he woke up alone, in Arthur's bed. Arthur tried not to do that to him, he knew. But sometimes it couldn't be helped. It was on those days that Merlin found he didn't have much energy to spare.

In the evenings, Arthur held him while he slept.

Sometimes Merlin held Arthur. It all depended on whose nightmares were worse, on that particular night.

When his cast finally came off, Gwaine and Percival brought him an electric keyboard. It fit on his lap, and he could set it to sound like a grand piano when he played. His mother helped him practice his scales with his damaged hand. He was slow and clumsy about it. His hand sometimes felt like it belonged to someone else. But it was better. He could move all of his fingers again. And the pain no longer kept him up at night.

Jan sixteen came and went at some point during all that time. It wasn't until the first week of March, when Leon was helping Merlin pack his mother's bags into the black Charger, that he remembered.

Merlin straightened suddenly, turning to Leon.

"The football match," he blurted.

Leon blinked at him, incredulously.

"Are you serious right now, Balinor?" Leon said.

Merlin didn't know what to say. It seemed an odd thing to be concerned about, now that he'd stopped to think on it. But he was.

Leon's expression softened.

"I forgot too," he said. "It's alright."

"Will they have another one, this season?" Merlin said. Leon blew out a breath, looked over the slush damp drive of the Estate.

"I can check. But it's nothing, Merlin, really. They'll have other matches, next season. And you'll be busy at Warwick soon."

Merlin hadn't given his doctorate program a single thought until just that moment. It made him nervous.

"Maybe," he said, turning away to close the car door.

Leon was a warm presence by his elbow. He didn't look up.

"Maybe?" Leon prompted.

Merlin took in a breath. His hands were shaking again. He could pretend it was the cold. The doctors had told him that the farmhouse hadn't been heated, and all that cold water had put him just shy of hypothermic by the time they'd gotten him into the ambulance. Sometimes Merlin thought about how quickly that had happened. Somehow he'd always thought hypothermic shock was something that occurred gradually, over a long period of time. Either way, he'd been damaged permanently by that too. The chill under his skin he'd felt when he'd woken up next to his mother in the hospital had faded to a dull ache in the back of his mind, but it wasn't gone. Might never be.

But it wasn't the cold. His hands still shook when he thought of having to go somewhere completely on his own. The thought of walking into Warwick, up onto the campus and into her crowded lecture halls gave him a sudden irrepressible shock.

Merlin made a noise of agreement to Leon's prompting question, but couldn't find any words to explain how he was feeling.

Leon leaned against the Charger and folded his arms.

"I talked to Arthur yesterday," he said conversationally. Merlin swallowed, glanced up at him. "Doesn't make much sense to have all of us up here while you're in Coventry. You know the property has an outbuilding?"

Merlin nodded reflexively. He remembered from the pictures, though he hadn't seen the brick building in person yet. Arthur had been careful not to bring it up to him, since they'd come back to London.

"It's a good space for a security office," Leon continued gently.

"A security office?" Merlin echoed.

Leon shrugged. "If you like."

Merlin repositioned himself, standing in front of Leon, instead of beside him. He looked up at the Estate, and back down the drive, wondering.

"You'd come down to Coventry with us?" He said, the question barely audible, but carrying in the snow hushed yard.

"Merlin," Leon said.

He looked up. He wasn't sure when the tears had started. It was involuntary, lately. Sometimes it just happened now. Leon reached out. Pressed them away with the heels of his hands.

"I told you," Leon said. "I'm always at your back."

"At the farmhouse," Merlin said suddenly, startling them both. He didn't talk about it to anyone but his therapist. Not because he didn't have the strength to, but because he didn't want anyone else to hurt for knowing too much.

He felt Leon bracing unconsciously for whatever he was about to say next. But he smiled, reassuringly, he hoped.

"It was zip ties before the handcuffs. I got out of them because I didn't struggle, when they put them on."

He braced his elbows against his sides, clenched his hands into fists and pressed his knuckles together, just like Leon and Gwaine had shown him.

"That's how I found the phone. It was in a closet, in some boxes. And I didn't stay to talk to anyone because..."

He trailed off, letting his hands fall to his sides. Leon put his hands on Merlin's arms, squeezing gently.

"You were looking for an exit," Leon finished for him. His voice was rough.

"Yeah," Merlin said softly. After a silence had passed, he went on.

"You were there for me too," he said to Leon.

Leon dropped his forehead to Merlin's. Closed his eyes.

"I should have been there, for Christmas," he said.

Merlin didn't have an answer for that. It wasn't true. No one had any reason to believe that, least of all Merlin. But he acknowledged that somewhere inside of himself, like Leon, he wished Leon _had_ been there. He didn't think the outcome would have been any different, and he knew that Leon knew that too. But he still wished it. So he didn't try to offer Leon any platitudes about it. Instead,

"Will you...would you be comfortable coming to my lectures with me?"

Leon pulled back to look at his face. He didn't say anything for a moment. This was the closest Merlin had come to admitting out loud that he was afraid to be alone, for now. His therapist told him it was normal. That it would pass. And that he should acknowledge it, when he was comfortable. Leon squeezed his shoulders, turned him toward the house so they could collect Arthur and his mum.

"What kind of head of security would I be if I didn't get a first hand walk-through of the campus grounds?" He said with a smile. "Don't judge me if I start snoring though, once your professors start talking."

Merlin snorted, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I'll kick you under the table, so help me God, Leon."

"Oh ho," Leon exclaimed, pulling open the door for him. "Worried I'll embarrass you, Balinor?"

"Only with that pretty face of yours," Merlin said beatifically, patting Leon's cheek as he passed.

"Oh you little shit," Leon said, reaching for him, and Merlin ran, laughing, skidding around the stairs.

Arthur caught him, and he was breathless, still laughing, as Leon nearly barreled into them, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh that dirty trick again," he said, straightening, running a hand through his hair. "I'll throw you in a snow bank first chance I get."

He was backing down the hall, pointing at Merlin, who couldn't seem to stop laughing.

"No you won't," he called over his shoulder.

"Will!" Leon said, disappearing around the corner. "You know I will!"

Merlin turned back to Arthur, his hands splayed on Arthur's strong shoulders, the sling gone now. He was flushed and still laughing, when Arthur took his face in his hands.

He was smiling. It was a radiant smile, and Merlin was suddenly aware that he hadn't seen Arthur look like that in a very long time. He covered one of Arthur's hands with his own, stroking Arthur's scarred knuckles with his thumb. Merlin's own laughter had faded, but his smile was still there, answering the light in Arthur's blue eyes.

"Hello love," Arthur said.

And to Merlin, it sounded like, ' _there you are_ '.


	40. The Last Measure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have started and stopped writing these notes so many times. I'm not entirely sure what to say. Writing this story has been such an amazing experience and it's thanks to each and every one of you. I am so grateful to you all, for the encouragement, the engagement, the excitement you have for this story. I am absolutely blown away. 
> 
> This might be the last chapter of Room Number Seven, but I don't plan on closing the doors to this universe just yet. So keep an eye out here and there for updates to The Same Truths. I also owe you all at least one more chapter on Reader Request Month! Keep an eye out for that as well. 
> 
> In the meantime, I hope this will bring you some joy as you head into the New Year. And I'll see you in 2021 with a brand new Merlin/Arthur story. Thank you for everything, and as always, stay safe and be kind 💋

* * *

It was hot, but Merlin had only cuffed up his long-sleeve Henley to his elbows. The white scars on the inside of his wrist were bright even on his pale skin. A seven inch incision and the dotted lines where the stitches had been, to put in the screws that had mended his breaks. He could look at them now without flinching. He'd moved his bracelets to that wrist.

The braided leather one Arthur had given him for Christmas had survived Sigan and the hospital because of it's easy snap clasp. But the one his mother had made him needed to be cut off in the ambulance. He had another one in it's place now. One she'd made him for his birthday. It had the same diamond pattern as the one she'd made for Arthur, but this one was a little more complicated. It had swirling cables that wrapped the golden diamonds in a beautiful bright slate blue and russet tan, like the wings of a Merlin in flight. She'd braided a royal scarlet red into the ties and around the button-hole closure at one end. Merlin loved it fiercely. He'd had Arthur knot it for him, knowing he wouldn't take it off until the macrame frayed with time, and fell apart of it's own accord.

He was lifting the last box of his things out of Leon's Charger, the Poundgate brick house shadowing him in the driveway. Although he'd started his first term at Warwick months ago in the Spring, Merlin and Arthur had been moving in slowly. More concerned with lectures and Arthur's once-a-month commutes back to London, than his dishware and spare clothes waiting in boxes for him at the Brixton flat. Just that morning, Leon had given him the keys to borrow his car to make the last trip to Brixton on his own.

It had been a beautiful drive. Merlin had kept the windows rolled down and his phone hooked up to Leon's Bluetooth, listening amiably through one of Dr. Gaius's recorded lectures. He'd had lunch with Gwen and Lancelot in one of the outside cafes in London. It was a perfect summer day.

He shifted the box to his knee briefly, propped against the side of Leon's car, and shut the door.

His wrist didn't hurt him, anymore. Carrying the box was no trouble. But sometimes depending on the angle he was holding his pen while taking notes during his courses, he noticed a tremor in his fingers. He wondered sometimes at how trauma could be condensed into such a small inconvenience when it had been such a deep jarring blow to him for so long.

He walked up the flagstone steps with the last of his things, and entered the house through the open black door.

Inside, Poundgate was filled with an airy summer breeze, drifting in from the open windows. It was bright, the tawny wood floors only sparsely covered by colorful rugs. Most of the decorating had been put into Merlin's capable hands. Arthur had told him it was only fair, since he'd purchased the house before Merlin could have a proper walk-through.

He enjoyed filling the house. In every room he'd discovered new ways that he and Arthur connected and it filled him with sunlight every time he noticed. Just small, ordinary things. Like one of Arthur's plain red coffee mugs left resting on a coaster from the set Merlin had picked up on a whim. They were black slate, covered in white chalk impressions of linear equations. One of them said, 'I'm a mathematician, of course I have problems'.

Or how Merlin's mail and Arthur's were tossed carelessly on the same trestle table by the door.

Merlin had conceded on the plush brown leather couch Arthur had loved when they'd gone to look for living room furniture, but it was covered in tawny throw blankets that Merlin couldn't seem to stop collecting wherever he went.

He made his way to the kitchen table, to set his box down. It was a round one, a bigger version of the little table in Cavendish that Merlin loved so much. Beside it was a gift from his mother, an antique dish hutch, like the one in her cottage, which she'd painted for him and Arthur when they'd begun their move into the brick house. It was a continuation of the label she'd done for Arthur's tea tin, empty now, but displayed on one of the many open shelves Merlin had put up in the front hall.

One side of the hutch was the knight cloaked in red, standing at the shores of some dark blue water, astride a magnificent golden horse. Glittering gold and silver stars were falling from its wind-swept mane. In this larger version, painted over the original olive green of the old wooden hutch, he was looking out into the distance after something. Following the knight's gaze across the front drawers, the dark lake turned into a bright green summer forest, the stars that were hanging from the horse's mane now hanging from the branches of the trees there too, glittering into the tiny fairy orbs that Merlin loved to see his mother paint. And on the far side, a young man stood on the berth of a wide open field, a blue sky at his back. He was tall, and his black curls were wind-tossed like the grass all around him. Like his red scarf, and the ends of his brown coat. He was holding a staff in his hand, with a blue stone at the top, and on his shoulder was a tiny white dragon, with matching blue eyes.

He stared at the paintings for a moment before continuing on to the kitchen table, smiling a little to himself. There were flowers waiting for him there.

Welsh poppies. Merlin picked the card up from where it was leaning against the vase, his smile softening.

He opened the card.

_Happy Birthday, Love._

They had celebrated his birthday on the weekend, Arthur surprising him with a party. Their first time having everyone over to their shared home. Gwen and Lancelot, even his mother, and Dr. Gaius. A few friends he'd made at the University. Elyan, Gwaine and Percival. Morganna had arrived with Leon. Was still with him in fact, staying a few days longer in the little outbuilding where Leon and Gwaine had private rooms. Leon was going to take her to see the Salisbury Plain. And Gwen had agreed to meet her out for breakfast later in the week. Merlin grinned wider thinking about it.

Leon had given him a new scarf, to replace the red one he'd lost in the Mullingar farmhouse. The Detective Inspector working on his case had offered to send his clothes back to him, the ones they had recovered from the basement, once the case had finally been closed. But Merlin didn't want them back.

The new scarf was beautiful light blue, with just a hint of grey. It reminded Merlin of the sky after a bright white snowfall. If it weren't July, he'd be wearing it now.

But his actual birthday, the 21st, was a Tuesday this year. Today.

He looked around, listening to the comforting sounds of the old house. The curtains were shifting in the breeze. Under the sound he could hear movement, further back, in the glass room Arthur had decorated for his birthday. It was still covered in fairy lights and the painted stars his mother had strung up on garlands across the glass ceiling. Merlin had asked Arthur not to take them down.

He wandered into the glass room, catching sight of Arthur, in jeans and a white t-shirt, his glasses on his nose. He looked up when Merlin entered, and smiled.

Merlin caught his breath when he realized what Arthur was standing next to.

It was the Crooked Hat piano, from the lonely conservatory in the manor house at Camlan in Wales.

"What's all this?" Merlin asked.

Arthur rested a hand on the big instrument, running it over her smooth wooden surface. She was even more stunning, Merlin thought, in the sunlight of their little brick house.

"This," Arthur said with a smile. "Belonged to my mother. I'm sorry I couldn't get it here on time for your party. I wanted you to have it."

Merlin swallowed, unsure of what to say.

The hardest part of his recovery, had been losing his rediscovered love for playing the piano. He could do it, but the motions weren't as fluid as they'd used to be. He missed notes more often. He still practiced on the little keyboard Gwaine and Percival had given him, but he hadn't played seriously for anybody, since Christmas. He wasn't sure it would be any good, if he did.

Arthur seemed to read the uncertainty in his face. Approached Merlin, and took his hand.

"You don't have to play it," Arthur said gently. "But it's there, if you want it. That's all."

Merlin kissed the inside of Arthur's wrist. Dropped his forehead to Arthur's steady chest.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Arthur kissed the top of his head. Held him for a moment longer.

"Is there anything left you want to do, for your birthday? You still have..." He glanced at his watch making Merlin laugh. "...seven hours or so, to make any requests."

Merlin tilted his head as if giving it some thought.

There was, as it happened.

He locked his eyes on Arthur's, making sure he was focused on him, and slowly, deliberately, lowered himself to his knees at Arthur's feet. He trailed his hands down the backs of Arthur's jeans, resting them lightly, palms cupping Arthur's hard muscled calves.

Arthur smiled slowly, looking down at him.

This too, had been a hard won fight for them. Between their injuries, it had taken them a very long time to regain the same strength and comfort they both needed to play safely. Now that they had it, they stole their chances, at every opportunity.

"Learning to walk on your knees, are you?" Arthur said, running his hands through Merlin's curls. Merlin tilted his head back. Closed his eyes.

"I have a royal prat for a boyfriend," Merlin said affectionately. "He enjoys it, when I'm on my knees."

It startled a laugh out of Arthur, momentarily breaking the spell between them. Merlin looked up at him, blue eyes glittering in the late evening sunlight.

"Alright you brat," Arthur said, running a hand over his face to try and smooth away his smile. It didn't work. Merlin grinned.

"Go upstairs and take off your clothes," he said, reaching down to lift Merlin up onto his haunches by his hair. "I'll lock up down here. When I get back, I want you kneeling."

Merlin moaned into the kiss Arthur pressed to his mouth. Already he could feel his skin warming, pushing aside that ever present cold for long delicious moments before Arthur released him.

"Go on," Arthur whispered against his cheek.

He went.

The upstairs rooms in the Poundgate brick house were another compromise.

The bedroom had a massive four poster bed in it, like the one in Arthur's room at the Estate. The wood was strong, warm and golden, like the floors. And the duvet and sheets were crisp white with no accents. The green throw blanket draped haphazardly across the foot of the bed was weighted. And the wooden trunk propped against the baseboard was also Arthur's, brought from the Estate.

The rest of the room was covered in the paintings Merlin's mum had sent him over the years but never had room to hang. Pictures too, of Hill Street in the Cathedral Quarter in Belfast, flower boxes in full bloom. Arthur and Merlin standing on the high peak at Nantlle Ridge in Wales, sweaty and flushed from the nine-mile hike. Bookshelves covered in hundreds of unorganized paperbacks and maths textbooks and spilling over with notebooks. The big double window looking over the garden, had a small desk beneath it. It was an absolute mess. On the window above it were a series of long equations, written in blue oil pencil across the glass.

Arthur had offered to turn one of the spare rooms into a private office for him, but Merlin didn't need one. He could work comfortably just about anywhere. But the view from their bedroom window was one of his favorite things about the Poundgate house.

There was a comical delineation to Arthur's neat, military habits and Merlin's organized chaos scattered about the room. Arthur had a silent digital clock on the bedside table, but Merlin had a vintage alarm clock on his side, one that stood on three legs and ticked softly, as it's hands traveled the circular face.

The ticking helped him sleep. Helped him stay asleep, when Arthur got up early for work.

He still jolted up sometimes, when Arthur got out of the bed, to get ready for his day. But that was getting better too. After the first few times, Arthur had started waking up a half-hour early, so he could lay back down with Merlin if he needed it.

Merlin looked at the ticking clock, beginning to pull his shirt over his head. He was still at a loss, for all of Arthur's quiet, easy compassion for him. He had never expected to be the focus of that kind of love, ever, in his life.

So it was easy for Merlin, the insomniac of the two of them, to make his own concessions when he'd noticed the dark circles under Arthur's eyes after their first few nights in their home, together. When he realized Arthur wasn't sleeping through the night, if Merlin wasn't laying down with him. He would wake up from nightmares about the two full days in December when Merlin hadn't been there. Arthur would watch the door and tell himself not to panic, until Merlin followed him up, usually very late, from studying on the couch or making notes on his thesis.

Now Merlin went to bed when Arthur did, and he found that it wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, to fall asleep before midnight. On the nights when he couldn't manage it though, he came upstairs anyway, and studied in bed, or at his desk under the window. Arthur still woke sometimes looking for him. But as soon as he found Merlin in the room, smiling gently at him until he recognized Merlin's face through the fog of his distress, Arthur would be able to turn over. To go back to sleep.

Merlin folded his clothes and set them on the trunk. Then he got up on the bed, and knelt. He tipped his head back a little while he waited, listening to Arthur's soft footsteps in the hall. He ran his hands down the tops of his own thighs and smiled to himself, knowing, without ego, that he looked as good as he felt.

Arthur's pause in the doorway, told him so as well.

The bedroom door closed quietly. And Merlin shuddered at the click of the lock that followed.

"Why did you stop?" Arthur said his tone predatory. Merlin opened his eyes. Felt a flush across his nose, his cheeks.

Shy all of a sudden, as he always was when Arthur's eyes took him in, Merlin drew his hands back slowly up his thighs, drawing them further to stroke the hard line of his cock, flush now to his stomach. As he did, Arthur approached, leaning over him to force his knees wider, making him gasp. Arthur watched him. Not his hands. His eyes. His flush deepened but he didn't look away, not until his hands began to falter in their own rhythm, and he stuttered on a moan, tipping his head back, and closing his eyes.

Arthur kissed the exposed curve of his throat, and gently moved his hands away making him whimper quietly. He felt the smile against his skin as Arthur dropped his lips to Merlin's freckled shoulder, lingering there to suck a bruise into the pale flesh.

"Lay back," he commanded. "Arms up."

He did, stretching out across the sun warmed duvet with a groan and an arch of his hips. Arthur hummed his approval as he ran his hands along Merlin's ribs, his slender waist. Then he stepped back off the bed and opened the trunk.

Merlin waited quietly, watching as Arthur unspooled the length of rope in his hands. Climbed up on to the bed behind Merlin's head and drew his hands up Merlin's long arms, carding fingers through his disheveled black curls. Then he started his ties.

It had been a wordless adjustment for them, once they'd found their balance again. When Merlin could comfortably close his hand into a fist, when Arthur could take his own weight on both of his hands. Until then, they hadn't used restraints. And when they finally did, Arthur had changed the ties to accommodate.

He began his column ties high on Merlin's biceps now, climbing tight to his elbows. The stretch it pulled in his shoulders was so good, Merlin marveled that they'd never done it this way before. He was careful with Merlin's elbows, always leaving a gap there and adding only one double column to the high soft swell of his forearms, each. Then he looped the rope in an easy circle, unknotted, to give Merlin a grip for his hands, before tying the whole thing off to the headboard of their bed.

He kept all of his knots clear of Merlin's wrists, but gave him more than enough restraint. Lacing his fingers through that loop, holding on to Arthur's ropes, made Merlin glow from the inside out. And it had been a game more than once, to see if he could make Merlin let go of the handhold, just for fun. Merlin smiled at the memory, bit his lip so it wouldn't be too obvious. But Arthur caught him anyway, and grinning, and leaned over him to kiss his mouth upside down. The angle was all wrong but it lit a fire in the cradle of his hips, making him flex his thighs, bend his knees open wider, involuntarily.

"It's your birthday," Arthur said reverently. "So I'm not going to make you wait for me. But I am going to take my time. Color, Merlin?"

"Green, Arthur," Merlin said

"Any special requests?" Arthur murmured, running his hands down Merlin's chest, kneading the muscles under his fingers. "Now is the time."

Merlin pressed up into his touch, moaning, lost for a moment before he shook his head. He didn't need to request anything in particular. He loved it all. Loved more that Arthur would always know what to give him.

Arthur slid back off the bed, keeping one hand on Merlin's chest and drawing it down his stomach, his hip, his knee as he made his way back up to settle between Merlin's strong thighs.

He stripped off his shirt, careful of his glasses, and tossed it aside. Arthur was the kind of person who only wore jeans when he was doing work around the house, which was almost never. He tended to wear trousers and button-ups even on the weekends. Merlin loved that about him. But he also loved this Arthur, who was kneeling over him in nothing but a pair of faded levis and his wire-framed glasses.

Merlin leaned his head to the side, his cheek pressed into his own shoulder and arm where they were stretched back over his head, and studied Arthur in the fading summer light. He thought about Excalibur, about Arthur's suits and his ties, about his storm cloud blue eyes and the way he'd caught Merlin, so many times. So many times, well before Merlin had dropped to his knees in the Mullingar farmhouse and fell again into Arthur's strong embrace.

Sigan had told him that he was the only one who would ever come back for Merlin. But the words had rolled off of Merlin's shoulders. He had known then, like he knew now, that he was lucky enough to have more than one person in his life who would come back for him, if he ever slipped away again. Like Leon, and Gwen and Lancelot. His mother, Gwaine and Percival. They had done it before, and they would do it again, like he would, for any of them.

And of course, there was Arthur.

He didn't know how to explain the feeling of long memory when it came to Arthur. They hadn't even known each other for an entire year yet, which was insane, when he gave it too much thought. It was insane because every morning he woke up next to Arthur, every time Arthur put a hand on his bare skin, Merlin was sure he'd known Arthur for an eternity. Would know him for another eternity yet. That they had always been holding each other up, that he had done this for Arthur in the past, and this time around, Arthur had done it for him. He wondered, on the edge of all those hazy feelings, what it would be like, the next time around.

"What are you smiling about?" Arthur said affectionately, leaning over Merlin's face, hands bracketing Merlin's arms.

Merlin turned his smile up toward Arthur's.

"Jeans," he said.

Arthur blinked down at him.

"Jeans?"

And then he looked down between them, at his own legs, and back up to Merlin. Merlin's laugh was bright in the space between them.

"Come here," he said, still grinning. Arthur was leaning closer, his eyes hungry behind his glasses. "Come here and make me beg for it."

Arthur kissed him, holding him firmly under his jaw, pressing Merlin's mouth open wider, possessing all of him with a single kiss. When they parted, Merlin was panting, and Arthur was still holding his face steady.

"It's your birthday," Arthur whispered against his swollen lips. "So I'll let that one slide...this time."

Merlin's answering smile was sharp. Knowing. But he didn't retort this time. He didn't need to.

Sliding a strong hand beneath Merlin's head, Arthur threaded his fingers in the black curls and pulled, kissing Merlin hard again.

Merlin moaned into Arthur's mouth, pressing harder into the kiss, and gave himself the briefest fantasy of somehow holding out against Arthur's mouth, his hands, the hard line of his cock pressing into Merlin's thigh.

His lips turned up against Arthur's kiss.

He wouldn't. Arthur knew he wouldn't. And somehow that made the whole thing hotter, aching into the cradle of his hips. Making him flex his thighs, brushing his skin over Arthur's jeans. Trying for any amount of friction, because he knew Arthur by now, and the long, possessive kisses he was indulging Merlin with, meant that he was planning on keeping Merlin from coming for as long as humanly possible.

Merlin bit his lip when Arthur tilted his head, moving his kisses to Merlin's jaw, his pale throat.

Arthur reached up, sliding his hands over the ropes, pressing his thumbs into the gaps, massaging the exposed skin of Merlin's forearms, the insides of his elbows and Merlin tipped his head back, panting now, and fell into the space he occupied with Arthur. Only Arthur, forever.

The space between two stars.

* * *

When Arthur woke, he was surprised to find himself alone. He stretched out one hand, his eyesight blurry from sleep and his missing glasses, feeling the space where Merlin had been. The first emotion he felt, was a rush of panic, and he put his head down, gripping the sheet in a fist.

He counted to five.

He gave himself to the count of five to panic, to let his breathing come in short bursts, to squeeze his eyes shut as tight as they would go. And then slowly, slowly, he relaxed. He pushed himself up in the bed, and reached for his glasses. He must have fallen asleep with them on, because they were on Merlin's side table, not his own. He slid them up onto his nose, and looked around the room.

Clothing and ropes scattered the floor. The weighted blanket had been draped over his shoulders and it was sliding precariously now off the edge of the bed. The room was dark, and so was the hall beyond it. But the door was open, so he knew Merlin had gone out into the house, not to their bathroom.

He sat for a moment, listening. And then quietly he got out of bed and slipped into a pair of sweatpants, before heading out into the hall.

Arthur followed the stairs carefully, his hip not as stiff as it usually was, but still protesting a little as he walked. His bare feet made no sound on the hardwood. Downstairs he could smell the night air, and the warm breeze rustled the curtains in the kitchen as he passed, continuing on to the open French doors of the glass room, where Merlin was sitting at the Crooked Hat piano.

He was sitting at the bench in nothing but a pair of dark briefs, his pale skin mottled with rope marks still, and blooming red bruises from Arthur's lips, his teeth. The wings of his shoulder blades were sharp in the moonlight as he played. Arthur leaned against the doorframe, and watched.

This piece, he didn't recognize. It wasn't popular music, or one of the Irish Christmas songs Arthur had heard him play before. This one was slow and deliberate, although it had a playful lilt to it all the same. It reminded him of the landing of swans on water, quiet and soft except for the rustle of feathers, the ripples cast along a moonlit surface. Merlin played, his hands moving across the keys with precision, his head lowered a fraction, dark curls shadowing his eyes.

The music rose up at a steady pace, softening back to a sweet melody, and then picked up again. Arthur leaned his head on the wood, and followed the lines of Merlin's arms, his spine, his sudden reach over the top of his opposite hand to connect one phrase to the next, and back again.

The music glided out from under his fingers, easy, like breathing.

Arthur blinked, and he didn't immediately wipe the tears that fell, dropping like rain to slide halfway down his cheeks.

There were no gaps in the music. No stuttered key strokes. Merlin was playing and there wasn't a single hitch to his pace. No uncertainty, or fault in his delivery.

He knew Merlin's wrist bothered him still, ached when he was especially cold, his fingers sometimes trembling without his notice. Arthur had heard his frustrated practicing on the electric keyboard he kept by his desk in their bedroom, on more than one occasion. But he still practiced. He didn't play for anyone, not that Arthur had seen. Not even, really, for his mother when she visited. Although he was sometimes persuaded to duet with her for short, quaint pieces that even Arthur could recognize without being told. Things like Greensleeves and Chopsticks. But never anything serious. Never anything like this. Merlin had been so afraid of losing this part of him, that Arthur had been wary of shipping the piano from the Camlan Estate, to their little brick house on Poundgate. Had almost said no, when Wyllt suggested it would make a fine addition to their new home.

Wyllt had told him about the night at Camlan, when Merlin had played the Crooked Hat piano for the first time. And Arthur had wanted desperately to give it to Merlin, after listening to Wyllt describe the look on Merlin's face when he'd realized his mother's favorite piano, wasn't a grand, but something unique. An instrument so rare Arthur had gotten more than one dirty look from the members of historical societies who had hoped he would donate it. And Merlin had played it. May have been the first person to coax a song from those keys in twenty years. Like he was doing now.

Arthur wiped his face. Quietly shifted off the doorframe, and turned to go.

"Stay," Merlin said, without breaking his movement.

It was such a quiet command, Arthur almost believed he'd imagined it. He turned to look at Merlin, who had tilted his head to look at Arthur over his shoulder, those glacial blue eyes luminous in the dark.

For a moment, Merlin's eyes caught the moonlight reflected off of all that bright glass, and they seemed to glow. And then he was turning back to his playing and Arthur recognized he was winding the piece down into its final measures.

He stepped fully into the room then, making his way to the piano bench, to stand at Merlin's shoulder. And he watched as Merlin finished his piece, and ran his fingers through Merlin's hair as he did.

As Merlin finished, Arthur realized he was playing with his eyes closed. And brushing a thumb across Merlin's temple, smiled back when Merlin smiled, even though he couldn't see it. When the music faded and Merlin's hands were still on the keys, Merlin looked up at him, leaning forward. Arthur lowered his head and kissed Merlin, his mouth moving easily against Merlin's parted lips, and they stayed there for a long time, just kissing, just touching.

"I love you," Merlin breathed against his mouth, barely breaking the kiss to get the words out. "I love you."

Arthur, his heart thrilling at the words, kissed Merlin harder for a moment longer, before leaning back to look at him with a smile.

"I know," he said gently, tracing Merlin's bottom lip with his thumb. "I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The piece Merlin is playing at the end of the chapter is called 'Daydreaming' by Luke Faulkner, and you can listen to it here: 
> 
> https://youtu.be/1kfNVsc-8Kw

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bound To His Will](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450130) by [Sunfall_of_Ennien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfall_of_Ennien/pseuds/Sunfall_of_Ennien)




End file.
